What the Voices Say
by Morbid DramaQueen10
Summary: Artemis has always been the one running the game. What happens when it's some one else's turn for "checkmate"? This time Artemis is the one who being played, until this opponent loses her focus. It's just too easy to fall for Fowl. See author's note.
1. Sophia, The smart one

**Author's Note**

**March 2012**

**I wrote this five years ago-ish, at the age of 13. Now 18, and a greatly *I hope and pray* improved writer, I can see this as complete and utter shit. How I produced over 100,000 words of crap and still gain followers is beyond me. Many times I have considered taking this and its companions down. But I haven't and I cannot. This terrible beast helped me become the writer I am today, brought me to improve my style, grammar, etc. And for that I am grateful.**

** So, before you start the flaming: Yes, I know the characters are OOC. I know there are loads of misspellings, I know the plot it twisty and weak, I know, I know, I know. **

**I fully accept that when I wrote this, I was a young idiot trying out this site for the first time, unsure of the etiquette or even how to use Word. **

**But I'm not going to take this down. Heck, I'm never going to edit it. I've moved on, and I couldn't even begin to properly characterize Artemis anymore. I'm leaving it as it is, as a reminder of where I started, and how far I've come. **

**Now, back to 2007! **

What the Voices Say

Morbid DramaQueen 10

This is my first fan fiction with chapters. I know, I promised to post the entire thing at once, but I'm having a slight writer's block on chapter five, so give me a break. Forgive me for making Artemis less brilliant than usual, but it's hard for me to express genius in a character.

As a note-I wrote this when I was TWELVE. I know it sucks. I know how awful it is. Trust, I know. And I would destroy it, for all you who read in two chapters, then tell my just how awful I am. But I'm keeping it as a reminder of where I started. So sue me.

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Artemis Fowl, any characters in Artemis Fowl, etc. I also do not own the Arty-newspaper-ad idea in chapter five, that is Agivega's, from the fan fiction Artemis Fowl and the Aztec incident. It's a really good plot. You should read it. But not until you at least finish this chapter.**

**CLAIMER: The fraction of this that is not somebody's mentioned above is MINE. Not yours, not your relative's, not anyone's but mine. Please ask before you do anything involving it. And wait for an answer from moi. That is all I ask. For now. MDQ10.**

She was the beautiful one. And the smart one. But that did not necessarily mean she was a planner. Or that shat she was organized. Sasha was the sister who had the plans and ideas. She took care of their jobs, getting the gigs, who to deal with and who to avoid, etc. Sophia worked out the kinks and security…the physical labor. As brilliant as the redhead was, she had a scatterbrained sense of business. The messy genius, keeping their laboratory in a contst

There business was on the shadier side of the law. Both girls believed that sometimes the wrong people had the right stuff and were a bit too greedy in their treatment of it. Certain actions must be taken to remind those people just how easily thing can be lost. Actions like robbery, forgery, scams. They were the perfect team.

Mostly Sophia was the distraction, or at the very least person on the other end of the head set and mike. Sasha assassinates the plot. Everything from computer hacking, document forgery to art robbery and identity theft, she figured it. Sophie didn't have the patience for computers of the like. She like physical action. Motion.

Sasha's current strategy was a bit extreme, not to mention complicated. Sophia had spent hours trying to memorize the blue prints before deciding to just ditch a few pointless steps and wing most of it. So at the very start of our story, we find Sophia on the roof of the biggest jewelry warehouse in the world, reading a map.

Twenty-one, pretending to be fearless, and about to make a grab for one of the largest topazes on the globe. If only she could remember which sky light she's suppose to go through.


	2. The tea is late

**What the Voices Say**

Morbid DramaQueen 10

This is my first fan fiction with chapters. I know, I promised to post the entire thing at once, but I'm having a slight writer's block on chapter five, so give me a break. Forgive me for making Artemis less brilliant than usual, but it's hard for me to express genius in a character.

**DISCLAIMER**: I do not own Artemis Fowl, any characters in Artemis Fowl, etc. I also do not own the Arty-newspaper-ad idea in chapter five, that is Agivega's, from the fan fiction Artemis Fowl and the Aztec incident. It's a really good plot. You should read it. But not until you at least finish this chapter.

**CLAIMER**The fraction of this that is not somebody's mentioned above is MINE. Not yours, not your relative's, not anyone's but mine. Please ask before you do anything involving it. And wait for an answer from moi. That is all I ask. For now. MDQ10

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Artemis Fowl did not like his tea late. Truthfully he did not like anything late. Who does? But late tea was something that caused him to be a bit… unpleasent.

Anyone would think a child prodigy would have learned some patience, but Artemis was no longer a child. He might be 23 years old, but has apparently not gained the gift of serenity. One flaw, you will later learn, that may or may not lead to his deep unhappiness. It shall be his own fault, of course, as most of these tribulations are.

So when Juliet was five minuets late with his Earl Gray, Artemis was a bit testy. He sat in the garden with Butler beside him cleaning a Sig Saur, something that gave the manservant tranquility.

"Where is Juliet?" Artemis asked in his usually concise voice. "It is nearly 4:06, and there is no beverage."

"She is in all probability tending to your parents, Artemis." The bodyguard answered in a calm, un-phased tone. He was use to Artemis's irritable manner when things did not to ship-shape to the schedule of the planned day. He had been this way for over a decade, and there was no use in advice or remarks, as the millionaire would ignore it. Besides, even if he did heed Butler's well-meant counsel, it was not as if he would stop instantly. It would take more remarks and more time, so there was no point in it.

"Eventually," Butler thought. "He'll come across someone whose suggestions do matter enough to assume."

The young man sighed. He sounded like a 12-year-old boy, not a 23 years old man. Disgraceful. "I'm sorry, Butler. My temper has been a bit short all week, but that is no excuse. I'm acting juvenile."

Butler nodded. Something had been eating at Master Fowl's tolerance lately. The young man had not yet discussed it with the old bodyguard, and Butler didn't dare ask. If Artemis needed help he would seek it. Even though Domovio and Artemis Fowl II were more than manservant and charge, on certain things they stayed on an employee-employer level. After all, Artemis did have a father now to answer such questions.

A few more seconds of silence passed and Artemis spoke up again, hesitating slightly. "It's…it's something Mother and Father spoke to me about last week."

He paused, not quiet sure how to phrase what his parents so bluntly explained to him 6 days ago. "They told me that now I am 23, and out of University I ought to consider…marriage."

This last word very quietly. "They understand finding 'the one'" He openly scoffed. "Can take year, with dating, the wedding planning, and then most people wait a few years…"

Now he appeared to be embarrassed. What ever had been bothering he was big, if Master Fowl was blushing. Good god, Butler though. He's brighter than a tomato.

"They want me to have a child. They told me with the time it takes to conceive, the waiting period, it might be a long time. And they wish to watch their grandchild grow up." If Butler though Artemis was red before it was nothing to now. He had never considered Master Artemis would be uncomfortable with taking about pregnancy. Science interested the millionaire, so the thought never occurred to him.

"Well?"

The manservant's head was spinning It seemed like only a night ago he was first posted outside Artemis's nursery door, a couple hours after his (Artemis's) birth. Now his charge was considering having children of this own.

"Artemis-" He hesitated. "Isn't it a bit… soon?"

The young man sighed. "Yes. But the radiation exposure Father had ten years ago shortened his life; even Holly couldn't fix that. They also feel I haven't dated much anyways, outside of Minerva, and I should start as soon as possible to find the 'right one'"

He visibly cringed.

"You are one of Europe's wealthiest families." Butler pointed out. "The list of gold diggers would go all the way to Newfoundland and have women…and men, too, of the very untasteful variety. You could be scammed. Genius you may be Artemis, but love is blind. And not in a good way."

"They took that into consideration. They're arranging me to meet only Europe's and America's richest and royal."

Butler himself shuddered this time. "What if she is not rich or royal?"

"Average, you mean?"

"Normal. Or of a higher IQ, but not genius."

"Normal?" Artemis mused. "Their exact words were 'We don't care who she is, Arty, as long as you are both happy.' It might be difficult to deal with a below 160 IQ, but I suppose I could manage. Avoiding her would not be difficult."

The manservant raised his eyebrows. "Stretching a bit, aren't you?"

Artemis shrugged. "It depends on how you look at it. Either way, I'm only going for one. It shouldn't be that complicated."

Domovio shook his bald head. For a genius Master Artemis could be so ludicrous. Finding a soul mate "not complicated"? The younger man was in for a big revelation.

"Ah. Tea's here."

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Thank you, Thank you! I know, it's simply brilliant.

Joking. Honestly

Please, Review!!!!!!!!

Look, I'm down here begging! On my KNEENS! Have pity, review! Whether you hated, loved it, had to look away because it burned your eyes it was that Wonderful/Horrible, LET ME KNOW! ASAP!

Thank you. That's all I ask.

Morbid Drama Queen.


	3. Breaking

**What the Voices Say**

Morbid DramaQueen 10

This is my first fan fiction with chapters. I know, I promised to post the entire thing at once, but I'm having a slight writer's block on chapter five, so give me a break. Forgive me for making Artemis less brilliant than usual, but it's hard for me to express genius in a character.

**DISCLAIMER**: I do not own Artemis Fowl, any characters in Artemis Fowl, etc. I also do not own the Arty-newspaper-ad idea in chapter five, that is Agivega's, from the fan fiction Artemis Fowl and the Aztec incident. It's a really good plot. You should read it. But not until you at least finish this chapter.

**CLAIMER: **The fraction of this that is not somebody's mentioned above is MINE. Not yours, not your relative's, not anyone's but mine. Please ask before you do anything involving it. And wait for an answer from moi. That is all I ask. For now. MDQ10.

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"Left?" She thought. "Right? Closer to the ring department?"

The map was confusing. Each are of the warehouse was numbered, named and colored. Each skylight was over a separate department. Bracelets, loose gems, chokers etc. Unfortunately, Sasha hadn't marked _which _room the topaz was in. Sophia might have been the oldest, but the whole "Responsible-brilliant- memory-good-person-in-society- respectable" thing didn't really apply to her. Sophia had a bit of short-term memory loss when it came to robbery.

Sasha's calm voice came through the headset. "Why are you still on the roof, Sophia?"

She sounded bored. Perhaps it was because she wanted in on the action, but had twisted her ankle earlier this morning stepping accidentally on the cat. Or maybe because they had done this so much it had lost the great excitement it had once brought on. "It's bad," Sophia thought, "When you've done something this illegally dangerous that you lose all apparent fear of being caught."

"And why are you over in 'rings'? It will take you forever to make it back in 'loose gems'."

Sophia silently thanked her sister for the reminder. Not that she would ever let Sasha know that she had forgotten where the loot was yet again.

"I'm looking for guards. We know little about the security, they could be all in 'rings', that's the most logical stake out. Rings are more likely to be stolen than loose gems, because they are lesser value and size. All the loose gems here are over 24 k, and no one in there right mind would try to rob there, it's assumed that they would be more protected, being of higher value, so any thief would go to the set in stuff, like rings, and get more of them, sell them in the black market for twice of what they're really worth, and get more that essentially the warehouse would. But really the gems are less protected than the rings, because the owners were thinking in the backwards perspective manner."

"Good idea. And speaking of idea, one just came to me. We haven't tried our hand in gold digging yet. Or murder."

"Sasha!" Sophia gasped. Theft was one thing, but murder was the one job beyond Sophia's limits. A limit she hoped her little sister had as well.

"I knew you're react like that." Sasha muttered into the mike. In a clear, louder voice she said. "Anyways, I won't discuss it with you now. Later, when you get home. Go find the topaz."

Nodding, even if no one could see her (so she thought), Sophia crossed to the "loose gems" skylight. Bending down she opened her kit and retrieved a clear blade made of pure diamond, the hardest stone on earth. Its transparency was perfect for lasers, and its wear brilliant for cutting through…well, anything really. She leaned over the glass placed her palm in the center, pressing the bland down 70 centimeters parallel from her had squeezing her eyes shut, praying they hadn't over looked a single security measure the warehouse had placed on it's skylight.

No alarm. Sophia opened her eyes and cut a circle in the glass just wide enough of an average human to slip through. Before she completed the full circle she placed her other had on the glass. Hundreds of tiny suction cups placed on the fingers and palms would be a definite help in keeping the disk from dropping to the marble floor. Adding a slight amount of pressure she lifted the round piece effortlessly.

Digging in her pack again she pulled a super-strong polyester-nylon cord, the kind used in rock climbing, with a gripping hook at one end. Quickly she tied the hooked end to the iron bar next to the skylight and attached the hook in place.

Feeding the rope through the hole she considered her actions. Was it really wrong? They donated to many charities, only stole from those who had much to give but didn't bother to, and they only kept enough to live off of. Both girls had a part-time day job that was used to buy food and clothing, but the real money came from the profession that was looked down upon by most of society. Sophia tried her hardest to create plans that could be fulfilled by no illegal means, like exposing other, smaller scam artist, the kind that stole all of Granny's savings convincing her to donate to inexistent animal shelter, or being the unseen bounty hunters. Sasha might complain that it was the low of the low, but Sophia wanted her little sister to be a good person, with good ethics, and the right ideas about mortality. Not a gang member, or kleptomaniac. Lately this preservation was getting harder and harder to maintain

When the rope hit the black marble floor Sophia pulled it once to ensure to be secure, and clipped her belt to it. She stepped up to the edge. It was a long way down. Taking a deep breath she eased her way down.

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Did you like it? Wonderful, really, that's great!

**SO REVIEW!**

Please? Please? Please.

That is all I want; your option. Your thoughts. That's not too much to ask, now is it?

If I'm not motivated, I might not want to write anymore more, let alone post. You'll be stuck with the wonderment of not knowing the end of the story, like you are when the commercials play a piece of song that's stuck in your head and you cannot get out and you want to know the ending sooooooooo badly.

All I want is a tiny, little review. I would be satisfied with a two-word "It sucks", that would at least clue me in on how you, the reader, are taking it in.

Morbid Drama Queen


	4. And Entering

**What the Voices Say**

**Morbid DramaQueen 10**

This is my first fan fiction with chapters. I know, I promised to post the entire thing at once, but I'm having a slight writer's block on chapter five, so give me a break. Forgive me for making Artemis less brilliant than usual, but it's hard for me to express genius in a character.

**Summery:** This is after Lost Colony. The youngest Fowls, the twins, are not in this; I do not know Eoin's idea of their character and would not do them justice. The People will not appear until later chapters due to their involvement not being important to the plot until then. Artemis has been in and out of a relationship with Minerva. A con artist Sophia Iver is the co-main character here. When Artemis puts an ad in a local newspaper she qualifies for Sophia takes a chance and attempts to romance then rob the young millionaire. What if he's the one charming her instead? Told from the point of view of Artemis, Sophia, Sophia's sister, and Butler.

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Artemis Fowl, any characters in Artemis Fowl, etc. I also do not own the Arty-newspaper-ad idea in chapter five, that is Agivega's, from the fan fiction Artemis Fowl and the Aztec incident. It's a really good plot. You should read it. But not until you at least finish this chapter.

**CLAIMER: **The fraction of this that is not somebody's mentioned above is MINE. Not yours, not your relative's, not anyone's but mine. Please ask before you do anything involving it. And wait for an answer from moi. That is all I ask. For now. MDQ10.

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The air was warm. It smelled faintly of gold polish. Sliding down, Sophia took a good look around. Jewelry display cases and glass counters lined the walls. The topaz was in one of the brightly glowing cases in the center of a carpeted area, probably lazar and alarmed, or so the informant had said. Turning on her flashlight Sophia scanned the floor. She saw no wires, bugs, or explosives. De Beers was not very protective of their gems. At least, anything besides diamonds.

"_The lengths some jewelers will go to protect a load of rocks."_ Sophia thought. But, then again, these were mostly minerals. Carefully she stepped down from the rope.

No alarms activated.

Or, at least not she could hear. More and more business were getting silent alarms with the hope of catching the thief off guard so as to prosecute them.

Breathing a sigh of relief she dropped her pack and bent to grab the diamond blade. It was normally her tool of choice, as well as her weapon. The knife was a "special" order made to a jeweler who did mafia deals too. He had done a similar job 15 years previously for a G. Ivers, who's own weapon was identical to Sophia's. With the persuasion of many euros Sophia knew she'd get quality work. Their father's knife had been lost in the firefight he had died in. No one had ever found it, and even if they had it was doubtful that they would have returned an expensive looking tool such as that.

Scanning the wide room she spotted the topaz. Large, uncut, and a butterscotch yellow. Perfect. And with little security. Amazing what De Beers prized was tiny clear stones while this huge golden one sat, unprotected.

She started towards it, stepping lightly. When she reached the case she turned on her penlight on. Moving the beam of light around the metal frame she checked for any unforeseen security measures.

"Hello." She murmured. Two tiny gray wires, disguised by the silvery gray of the frame. The came out one corner, ran down the gray commercial flecked kitchen counter top-ish pedestal and on to the carpeted floor. Anyone with average, normal, 20-20 eyes would have missed this defense mechanism. But not this human. Sophia had been trained from a very young age to pay attention to the small things. Any tiny detail could be important.

She quickly flicked the blade out and slid it across the two wires. There. The alarms were gone anyhow, but incase Sasha had not seen this already Sophia clipped a battery save on the ends of the wires. It was of her own invention, made especially for alarms. It was put on any cut wire or power source, gave a constant flow of power for up to 3 days, and kept on a message of "Yeah-everything's-fine-no-one's-tripped-the-wires-yet". Great for problems such as this.

Now she was ready to get the topaz out. It was the same procedure as the skylight, diamond blade, glass circle, gloves. But just as she was about to make her fist cur the overhead light flicked one. She heard a shout.

They were coming. "Shit."

Thousands of premeditative plans flickered through her mind. She selected the hardest and went for it. She had no idea how close the guards were or if they even knew where she was.

"I think I've been detected." She hissed in to the mike while finishing her circle. Halfway there.

"Then shoot them." Sasha's dull voice came in to the earpiece.

"They're not here yet. I jus started cutting when they turned on the lights"  
"God." Sasha sounded annoyed. "How many times have I told you to use the laser? That diamond dagger thing of yours is only for stabbing"

Sophia had designed the knife especially for cutting things other than flesh. It was a design between a dagger, kitchen knife, and craft knife. Multi-purpose, for stabling, slicing, slashing, cutting etc.

"It is -" She lifted up the glass.

"A-" Now she was ready to take the topaz out. She had it.

"Knife. I never bring the dagger. The angle of the blade can't cut properly. Too messy."

The topaz was out glittering in the faint light. Sophia used to penlight to quickly look over it. 100 percent De Beers topaz. She tossed in her pack along with the blade while running to the rope. Fast as her tapered fingers could, Sophia clipped herself to the rope and began to climb up. It was a slow task, but she managed quickly enough. When she reached the window to the outside world she yanked up one last time, pressed her back to the metal bard edging the glass and forced her legs out, pulling the rest of her body with it.

It was like coming up from under water. Gasping she clung to the metal bar the rope was attached to. Then Sophia collected herself, remembering the job was not yet done. She gathered the rope into a tight ball.

Taking a tiny device resembling a light she clicked it on. A blue flame so hot the heart of it was white appeared. Sophia lifted the glass disk moving the lighter along the edges until the melting glass turned white. Then she swiftly put the disk into the center hole of the skylight. It bonded with in seconds.

And she was long gone by then.

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**Don't deny it. You are so in to this story you want to read even more.**

**The key to that:**

**Reviews.**

**You see people, by every chapter my stats are lower. With that my motivation lowers. Reviewing can change this. **

**Tell your thoughts and ideas for this fict. If you do I'll give you a cookie. **

**MDQ**


	5. Trying to Trick Sophie

**What the Voices Say**

**Morbid DramaQueen 10**

This is my first fan fiction with chapters. I know, I promised to post the entire thing at once, but I'm having a slight writer's block on chapter five, so give me a break. Forgive me for making Artemis less brilliant than usual, but it's hard for me to express genius in a character.

**Summery:** This is after Lost Colony. The youngest Fowls, the twins, are not in this; I do not know Eoin's idea of their character and would not do them justice. The People will not appear until later chapters due to their involvement not being important to the plot until then. Artemis has been in and out of a relationship with Minerva. A con artist Sophia Iver is the co-main character here. When Artemis puts an ad in a local newspaper she qualifies for Sophia takes a chance and attempts to romance then rob the young millionaire. What if he's the one charming her instead? Told from the point of view of Artemis, Sophia, Sophia's sister, and Butler.

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Artemis Fowl, any characters in Artemis Fowl, etc. I also do not own the Arty-newspaper-ad idea in chapter five, that is Agivega's, from the fan fiction Artemis Fowl and the Aztec incident. It's a really good plot. You should read it. But not until you at least finish this chapter.

**CLAIMER: **The fraction of this that is not somebody's mentioned above is MINE. Not yours, not your relative's, not anyone's but mine. Please ask before you do anything involving it. And wait for an answer from moi. That is all I ask. For now. MDQ10.

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Sasha cracked her knuckles and leaned back in the designer leather coffee coloured computer chair.

"Did you get it?"

"Yes."

"And…?"

Sophia's sigh crackled through the line. "It was easy. A close call but easy. "

"Exactly."

"No need to brag. De Beers is surprisingly irresponsible with their gems. I knew there was, in reality, no security. "

"Then why were you so worried?"

"Habit. Remember the good old days, when you actually feared getting caught, and exposure? Because the missions were dangerous, complicated, and we faced execution if caught. You use to quote the Webster's definition of fear."

"I did not!"

"Yes, you did!"

"We'll continue this discussion when you return."

Sophia grinned. That meant Sassy had given up or was embarrassed and did not wish to continue, believe Sophia would forget the argument before she returned home. "Fine."

The line remained silent for the next hour, until Sophia entered the grounds.

Mean while Sasha surfed the Internet, sketching a rough plan for their next "payday. Sure the phrase sounded like it came from some old cheesy mobster film, but they had been using it for over 12 years. Too long to change now.

Recently there had been a newspaper advertisement that caught Sasha's eye. A very interesting ad. One that Sasha couldn't help being more than a little attracted to. It was defiantly a payday. If it were not a prank.

"_Young Irish Business man looking for attractive equally_

_ young Irish woman of IQ higher than 130 with natural red hair."_

This was Sophia in every sense. She had the dark auburn hair, pale skin, and green eyes. Both girls had a slight American accent coming from spending much of their early childhood in the U.S., but Sophia had more Irish in her than Sasha. Sasha took more after her mother, while Sophia was like their Father. She could pass as a native; even the great Artemis Fowl wouldn't be able to discredit her nationality.

Sasha was positive to advertiser was the young Irish millionaire. "_Soon to be billionaire, I'm sure."_

Who else would require an I.Q. examination? Sophia could easily get 170, or more, if she felt like it. Ireland might be the country with the lowest I.Q. scores in Europe, but a few of its greatest minds did fake their true scores.

The only difficult part would be convincing Sophia to even consider this kind of con. She was firmly against murder, gold digging, financially or emotionally hurting anyone. If she did lead on Fowl and broke his heart she would never forgive herself. Sasha was counting on Fowl's lust not love. Heartbreak over loss of sex was completely different than heartbreak over loss of love.

To lure Sophia into the idea wouldn't be hard. She would have a nearly foolproof plan moments after her sister brought it in to the conversation. When she realized that Sasha was serious when she mentioned the gold digger idea. This new avenue of theft would be exciting and yet ever less dangerous. But how to convince darling Sophie?

There was no way Sasha could fake their financial need, herself having a terminal illness, or it being their mother's final wish Sophia marry (neither girl ever found her will.).

Perhaps she could convince her sister young Artemis could be a powerful alliance, she had always wanted to give up this life for one of normalness, he could help her do this, if she was his mistress. Sasha could do the actual robbery. All they would need was Sophia's red hair, Irish heritage, and intellect.

She wondered if maybe her sister and the millionaire could click. Both were young geniuses, interested in environmental science, misunderstood by many, loved by few, and Irish. Well, almost both of them.

When the alarm went off later Sasha was on the computer researching the Butler family.

"A formidable group indeed."

Sasha shrieked and proceed to knock the intruder's legs out from underneath her—

And her sister collapsed to the floor.

"Ow." Sophia moaned.

"Sorry!"

"Nice to see you've been practicing, at the least." She stood up, grimacing. "That will be a lovely bruise I'm sure. Oh, and nice save with the siren there, Sassy."

"Sorry, again. You scared me. Wha- did the alarm go off?"

Sophia snorted. "It did. You were so just wrapped up in info on the Butlers-"

She cast a glance at the computer screen. "You must have not heard. Which is not cautious enough."

"Soph, it's late, I was reading-"

"And anyone could have snuck in here, slit your throat, then waited and decapitate me. _Listen_ Sassy!"

Sasha sighed. This was going to be difficult. "It was important, the stuff about the Butlers. I was researching them because they are connected in regarding the plan. The Butlers are involved in the main subject of the new plan."

Sophia got a dreadful feeling in her stomach. Sasha saw her sister go pale.

One name formed on her lips.

"Artemis Fowl…" 

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**Okay. I didn't think this chapter really fulfilled my want of feeling. It makes only a bit of sense.**

**But that's just how I feel. Too bad I don't know how _you_ feel about this chapter, or story in general.**

**Oh, wait I can!**

**If you review.**

**It will only take a minute of your time.**

**Thank you.**

**MDQ**


	6. Beaten and Broken

**What the Voices Say**

**Morbid DramaQueen 10**

**Chapter 6, Beaten and Broken**

This is my first fan fiction with chapters. I know, I promised to post the entire thing at once, but I'm having a slight writer's block . Forgive me for making Artemis less brilliant than usual, but it's hard for me to express genius in a character.

**Summery:** This is after Lost Colony. The youngest Fowls, the twins, are not in this; I do not know Eoin's idea of their character and would not do them justice. The People will not appear until later chapters due to their involvement not being important to the plot until then. Artemis has been in and out of a relationship with Minerva. A con artist Sophia Iver is the co-main character here. When Artemis puts an ad in a local newspaper she qualifies for Sophia takes a chance and attempts to romance then rob the young millionaire. What if he's the one charming her instead? Told from the point of view of Artemis, Sophia, Sophia's sister, and Butler.

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Artemis Fowl, any characters in Artemis Fowl, etc. I also do not own the Arty-newspaper-ad idea in chapter five, that is Agivega's, from the fan fiction Artemis Fowl and the Aztec incident. It's a really good plot. You should read it. But not until you at least finish this chapter.

**CLAIMER: **The fraction of this that is not somebody's mentioned above is MINE. Not yours, not your relative's, not anyone's but mine. Please ask before you do anything involving it. And wait for an answer from moi. That is all I ask. For now. MDQ10.

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Now is the time to tell you a bit of the Iver Sisters' history:

Sophia was born in 1988 in Ireland, the result of a summer romance between her parents while on vacation in Italy. When she was four Sasha was born, in 1992, and they were living in America with their mother, Andreaya De Richard, while their father, Gavin Iver, was working as an off-the-records spy for Great Britain. He did any dangerous spying, and they turned their heads the other way at his thefts, with the agreement that he rob only those who could spare it.

In 1995 Gavin came home for good but the family didn't stay there for long, living an international life, but the main home base was in New York, New York, America.

Sophia's intelligence was recognized at a young age. When it was discovered her mother provided her with a private tutor, library, and studio. Her father fearing his daughter's labeling as a "nerd", who tends to be picked on by peers, or outcast, taught her to defend herself with a unique blend of boxing and martial arts that she later passed on to her sister.

At age 12 Sophia was a black belt, could speak fluent French, Latin, Spanish, German, bits of Greek, and could easily spout out random facts about world history that were 100 percent true, baffling, and complicated.

Sasha was offered tech class so as not to feel left out and accepted, happily learning the art of the Internet, reading "Robot programming 101" and "Private, barred, and illegal Website Hacking for Dummies" at the tender age of seven. She was no prodigy, but could be called advanced in that one field of learning. It was later that this skill of quick understanding and planning that was of excellent use in her future career.

By the late 1990s the Ivers were seriously rich and well known in the rich community. But all of this glory was ruined and then abandoned when a during rebel outbreak Gavin was accused of betraying the spy unit he was currently working with. The British government, in sympathy (and what Sophia later suspected a large amount of euros), helped them into hiding.

Those 4 years were bad, for it was discovered that Andreaya was developing stomach cancer. The disease was caught too late to be stopped. The girls watched as their mother died a painful, slow death. Their freedom was granted soon after, but 3 months too late to bury her in her homeland of France.

Gavin was thrown into a deep grief by his wife's leave to the white woman. His daughters were both affected by his depression but not completely in a negative way; Sasha became mature, Sophia began a business.

Working at night when her small family was asleep, Sophia custom designed jewelry, handbags, music boxes and statuettes. Wealthy women in Europe and the Americas snatched them up, demanding more from this new French designer "Andreaya". She could only produce so few, the annual amount was a little over 30,000 a month, most of which went to bills, more supplies, money for food, clothing, etc. Sure, she lost sleep, but they go to keep the apartment.

In 2004 revolt broke out against some religious or government thing in the Iver's summer home,a small village in Ireland on the coast, when Sophia was 16 and Sasha 12. Gavin had been out trying to calm a mob and was stabbed. Strangely by no on in the mob, but by an anonymous person who was never caught. The diamond knife he had brought with him was never recoved. Neither girl was given much detail beside what is written here, although Sophia suspected it was not just a random attack but a planned murder.

The apartment was sold. Sophia took her little sister to Dublin, they bought a brownstone, and began planning.

"I want to work too!"

"No Sasha, you're going to school, and that's final! It's what Mother and Papa wanted! You need to learn!"

"Sophie, I don't need to. You can teach me!"

"And when you loose interest, want a real job, then cannot get one because of your lack of education what will you do? What if I'm not there to save you then?"

With this Sophia collapsed on to the couch sobbing. Suddenly becoming a single parent was staining her. The business would either have to go, or a second job found, for the funeral, moving and bills were eating all the funds. There was only one thing Sophia knew she would truly excel at. But it could take her away from Sasha forever if she was caught.

Sasha knelt down giving her sister a hug, promising she would go to school and would work.

A year later Sasha was being taught part-time by Sophia and working the other half.

The job was not in art.

It was, however, an art.

The art of theft.

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**This is the third chapter I have posted today. **

**Don't I deserve a review? **

**Please?**

**MDQ**


	7. To Prove it

**What the Voices Say**

**Morbid DramaQueen 10**

**Chapter 7, To Prove it**

This is my first fan fiction with chapters. I know, I promised to post the entire thing at once, but I'm having a slight writer's block. Forgive me for making Artemis less brilliant than usual, but it's hard for me to express genius in a character.

**Summery:** This is after Lost Colony. The youngest Fowls, the twins, are not in this; I do not know Eoin's idea of their character and would not do them justice. The People will not appear until later chapters due to their involvement not being important to the plot until then. Artemis has been in and out of a relationship with Minerva. A con artist Sophia Iver is the co-main character here. When Artemis puts an ad in a local newspaper she qualifies for Sophia takes a chance and attempts to romance then rob the young millionaire. What if he's the one charming her instead? Told from the point of view of Artemis, Sophia, Sophia's sister, and Butler.

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Artemis Fowl, any characters in Artemis Fowl, etc. I also do not own the Arty-newspaper-ad idea in chapter five, that is Agivega's, from the fan fiction Artemis Fowl and the Aztec incident. It's a really good plot. You should read it. But not until you at least finish this chapter.

**CLAIMER: **The fraction of this that is not somebody's mentioned above is MINE. Not yours, not your relative's, not anyone's but mine. Please ask before you do anything involving it. And wait for an answer from moi. That is all I ask. For now. MDQ10.

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"Okay." Sophia spoke in small words slowly. "You want me to scam Artemis Fowl II, in essence, become a gold digger, and ultimately become the thief Queen?"

"Yes." Sasha snapped. "And you can stop speaking to me like I have a mental dysfunction, or am on my death bed. I want you to scam Artemis Fowl II. It should be easy."

Sophia was silent for a minute, staring at her sister. Sasha feared her sister's mental break down, not knowing that Sophia was wondering the same thing across the table. She finally burst out laughing. A normal laugh, save for the key of high pitched fear whispering behind the humor.

"That's a good one Sassy. Rob Fowl Manor! Right. How about the Taj Mahal and Louve, or Buckingham Palace too while we're at it."

"I'm serious. Artemis Fowl."

"No."

"It's close. He's a match. He's looking. Should be easy." Quickly before Sophia could object further she pushed a newspaper clipping across the polished stainless steel tabletop. Sophia grabbed it, swiftly scanning the ad.

"Doesn't mean it's him."

"I have other proof."

"Really?" She asked with heavy sarcasm. Three years pervious when Sasha has proposed an idea Sophia asked for proof because the plan was so far-fetched. It had come, but was exposed to be fake only after the danger turned up. Sasha had walked into a trap and barley escaped alive. The new policy was all evidence, tips, and leads were thoroughly checked before acted upon.

"It's straight from Fowl himself. An audio file from his latest lecture at University."

Now she slid a digital voice recorder across the table. Sophia snatched it up pressing play in a flash.

"_I know Butler. The advertisement will be out soon enough. I just need time to prepare. A hundred swindling women are landing on my doorstep. My mediation time might have to be extended for an hour or two in the coming weeks." _The speaker chuckles

"_Yes, Master Fowl."_

Sophia stared at the box as though it had just told her the moon was about to explode. That first voice… it had scared her. And at the same time she felt her heart … was it fluttering?

"Where did you get this?"

"I told you, from his latest lecture at theUniversity. There was a video of it on there web site. Took me a while to find this little clip. I filtered it about 50 times."

"What? Artemis Fowl prattling on about his meditation schedule in front of a load of collage students?"

"Of course not. This is him behind the curtain talking to his bodyguard as the host announces his lecture. You could see his outline through the cloth, facing the large bald man. I assumed they were speaking, so I enhanced and filtered it till I could hear him. I matched up the words with the movements of his lips at the time. And the 'Master Fowl' thing was a tip too."

"Not bad work. But Sassy, Artemis Fowl? I mean, the Butler's themselves come with their own warning labels-their name. Hurting Fowl in any manner is suicide. We can change our name, appearance, language, anything. But if we get caught harming Fowl's estate or Fowl himself we will die at Butler's hand. Silently by sniper rifle, most likely. He isn't like anyone we've gone against before. This is most unsafe then anything we could do. He doesn't hesitate to kill. He will."

"Soph, when is it every safe? This is life. We promised we would live, survive, and this is the way we can."

Sophia struggled not to yell. "We are surviving! There are no financial, medical or emotional problems here! Why do we need Fowl? There are other men we can romance."

"Fowl is the one. Taking him down makes us the best, unstoppable. No one would cross us."

"We will fail."

"I can ensure a win."

Shaking her auburn tresses Sophia sighed." We could win. We could walk away now with 1.3 million and live happily. We could keep promises get married have families, live our lives. Ignore the past. Be secure. Be happy. Why risk it now?"

Sasha remained firm.

" So we can prove we are the best."

Her sister stared her down, deep green eyes strong and gentle. Filled with love. She would do anything for Sasha. Anything to keep her from doing this. Before the topaz she vowed Sassy would have a normal life. Now Sasha was making a good, but so dangerous, offer.

Secretly Sophia had thought of Artemis Fowl, wondering what he looked like, who he really was, etc. This person was like her. A genius, brilliant, caring about the environment. How long had she wanted to meet him, ask him questions, have another person share her annoyance at the rest of the world and her want of belonging in it. Now if she took up he sister's plan she would not meet him as Sophia Iver, but under some alias.

Sophia stood, walked to Sasha and hugged her, squeezing her carefully. It was easy to forget their mother was gone and Sassy was still so young and in need of love.

"Please." Sasha whispered into her sister's shoulder. She would not sign Sophie's death warrant, but she would let her sister live a happy life. Artemis couldn't not like her. Sophia held her for another moment, squeezing tighter as the seconds passed.

"We'll get killed if we're caught. It's not like stealing art in Monterey. The Butlers will have no hesitations over killing us. None at all." _Or at killing me._ She added silently knowing it would be her doing the real dangerous work; the inside job. If Artemis did pick her out of the supposed hundreds.

"Artemis will love you." Sasha replied with confidence. "You're everything he's wanted. And more."

"Yeah, with some make up, Gaelic lessons, and work on strengthening my accent I will be." Both girls giggled.

The accent was only the beginning. Next came the wardrobe.

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**All right. The, like, fourth thing I've uploaded tonight.**

**Please, Please, please, please review!**

**Please.**

**Thanks!**

**MDQ**


	8. Could He Be Hoping?

**What the Voices Say**

**Morbid DramaQueen 10**

**Chapter 8, Could He Be Hoping?**

**_I AM SO SORRY ABOUT THIS CHAPTER. I AM TRYING IMPROVEMENTS, BUT REALLY, UNLESS YOU WANT MORE OF THE PATHEDIC CHARACTER __MY__ ARTY IS TURNING OUT TO BE, SKIP TO CHAPTER 9. IF NOT READ THIS._ BUT I DO NOT RECCOMED THAT YOU DO SO. It' SAD!**Forgive me for making Artemis less brilliant than usual, but it's hard for me to express genius in a character so brilliant. I'm just classified under 'gifted'. Arty is genius. Big difference. I'm not even a prodigy.

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Artemis Fowl, any characters in Artemis Fowl, etc. I also do not own the Arty-newspaper-ad idea in chapter five, that is Agivega's, from the fan fiction Artemis Fowl and the Aztec incident. It's a really good plot. You should read it. But not until you at least finish this chapter.

**CLAIMER: **The fraction of this that is not somebody's mentioned above is MINE. Not yours, not your relative's, not anyone's but mine. Please ask before you do anything involving it (not including reading it). And wait for an answer from moi. That is all I ask. **MDQ10.**

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Today was not a good day. Defiantly not for Artemis.

Toady he interviewed 50 women, each for 10 minutes or less, then picked 15 or less to spend one full hour with in the coming week. After each hour long date the list would shrink down to one whom he would continue court until he found some terrible flaw in her, and then perform a "painful" break-up with. Maybe then his parents would lay off the "let-get-Arty-wed-so-we-can-have-grandchildren!" idea.

Or maybe he would "love" this girl, make her the next Mrs. Fowl, wife of the heir to the Fowl legacy, billion heiress, practically royalty. What a fairy tail.

He doubted that any of them would come up to scratch. Sure they were smart, but Irish, beautiful, and bursting of the right qualities for the "young Irish businessman"? Artemis would be lucky if even one had real natural red hair. Butler had said a few had pink hair, apparently having not followed the instructions on the box. Yeah, what a bright group, too.

The limits to get even this short interview weren't high, but to get an hour-long date with Mr. Fowl would be exhausting to the contestants. He wouldn't be very surprised if over half left the room in tears. He did, after all, plan to be intense with them. If the woman who wanted to be the future Mrs. Fowl couldn't handle Artemis's awe inspiring sheer brilliance, then she could definitely not handle his frequent and severe mood swings.

From the other things Butler said these were not women with intelligence. They most likely cheated on the test form. Cheating on an I.Q. test, Artemis recalled, was not difficult. He had taken the little quiz many times, once in a 'on-the-toilet-quiz-book' and usually found a way to easily cheat, or, if he test was being give by a person, make the test adviser weep uncontrollably, coming to the point where they would want to quit their career from the constant uncertainty of the answers to the said test.

But how could he go through with this? It wasn't going to get him any fiancé, plus it was making Artemis I and Angeline a bit agitated. They had smiled when Artemis announced his proposal but were tight-lipped and stiffly cheerful. He had to go through with it. It was the only way he could stay in peace. Staging a broken heart afterwards perhaps would convince Mother and Father to let 'Arty' take his sweet time. If things do not go right, as planned. If he doesn't find someone.

A small part of him hopes there is someone out here for him and she's in that room five doors down. That small part was praying desperately for success when Butler entered the room with Earl Gray. Always Earl Gray, it was Artemis's favorite.

"Ready, Artemis?"

They were in a hotel in Dublin. It was five-star, anonymous, perfect for the interviews. The women could see he was wealthy without viewing Fowl Manor itself. That was part of the plan. "_Always stick to the plan. No time for longing for fairy tales."_

"Yes Butler, bring them in."

Butler nodded, then departed for the room five doors down.

Artemis turned to he tray, poured himself a cup, then sat down in the swiveling leather armchair. He turned to face the window behind the desk. Moments later he heard a sigh. "_Already?"_

Then he realized it was he who had sighed.

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**This is another chapter I don't like.**

**I'm not bothering with begging now.**

**Just review the damm story already.**

**Thank you. **

**Seriously, if you're still reading this and I think there is only about 5 of you left according to my last check of the stats, I ****need ****motivation to continue posting. The story's there, but I'm keeping it in a notebook, so I have to type it. That takes time, and frankly, I am busy. **

**The motivation to keep posting comes from you, so review! **

**MDQ**


	9. Worried in Teal

**What The Voices Say**

Morbid DramaQueen10

**Chapter 9, Worried in Teal**

Forgive me for making Artemis less brilliant than usual, but it's hard for me to express genius in a character so brilliant. I'm just classified under 'gifted'. Arty is genius. Big difference. I'm not even a prodigy.

**DISCLAIMER**: I do not own Artemis Fowl, any characters in Artemis Fowl, etc. I also do not own the Arty-newspaper-ad idea in chapter five, that is Agivega's, from the fan fiction Artemis Fowl and the Aztec incident. It's a really good plot. You should read it. But not until you at least finish this chapter.

**CLAIMER: **The fraction of this that is not somebody's mentioned above is MINE. Not yours, not your relative's, not anyone's but mine. Please ask before you do anything involving it (not including reading it). And wait for an answer from moi. That is all I ask. **MDQ10**.

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The dress was a bit too…cold? Itchy? Thin? It was hard to tell—Sophia was so nervous she could think in great detail, let alone about her own discomforts.

One thing she could say was that the dress was a little slutty for her tastes. She was all about comfort, cuddly sweaters, jeans, cotton tank tops, sweat jackets. It was something Sasha had bought for her, a teal with turquoise lining and cream lace edging dress. The neck was too low, showing off her cleavage, the skirt barely past her knees, and overall it was something Sophia would normally not wear. But Tara would.

This thought still did not make her any less uneasy.

She had met I.Q. requirements, of course, but meeting this genius was a tad frightening. He was so… imposing. The last girl had left weeping, inconsolable. Before she exited the room with her retrieved purse someone had asked what exactly the interviewer had done. Tearfully she had replied that Artemis Fowl scared her; asked her confusing questions.He had eyes like x-rays, as though he could see through her.

The sisters had staked out the hotel weeks previous and eventually were rewarded with the knowledge of time, date, room numbers and locations, who would be in what room, the security, and just what kinds of tea was to be served. All information important to the plot. Or so Sophie thought. "Every signal detail has an objective. We could bug the room Artemis was in to hear conversations, or drug the tea, because by knowing the brand and flavor we can decide how much and what kind of sedative would be best."

Sasha considered it a waste of eavesdropping.

There were around 50 women in the elegant lounge. The oldest looked to be just over 55, while the youngest only a few years younger than Sasha, less than 16.

Sophia shuddered.Thoughts she had been trying to repress were flying through her mind's eye. Sasha here, doing this. Sasha cold, dead, empty look in her eyes after the large Eurasian man shot her. Sasha make her living through prostitution when Sophia failed and was killed after being caught by the great Artemis Fowl II trying to scam him by romance.

"Tara Gavin?"

Sasha being kicked out of the brownstone they had spent so much time refurbishing…

"Ms. Gavin."

The Eurasian's voice with then underlying hint of concern called her back from her horror.

"Y-yes?"

The man gave her a funny look. The kind one gives people who they are considering to be mentally handicapped. Sophia began to wonder what her expression must have been.

"Master Fowl is ready to see you."

He was over 7 foot tall, nearly two meters, very buff and threatening. She could see the glint of a gun, possibly a Sig Saur under his jacket. Fowl's bodyguard. Oh, the stories about this fellow. She would not want to pick a fight with this man, or Fowl, if this was a consequence.

Sophia doubted any of these women knew who this man was or his reputation. Normal people don't usually. Tara Gavin was a fairly normal person. Butler's status was not something Tara would know. She tried her best to forget this little foreshadowing, as Tara was to be strong, confident. Something Sophia only was in her mind.

"Thank you." She stood and followed Domovoi Butler five rooms down to a big black door. He knocked twice, rapping his knuckles in a firm purposeful way. His hands were the size of pizza pans. Not something you want around your throat. One hit on the head and Sophia was betting the sheer force would break your spine. Lovely mental image right there.

"Come in." A cool, emotionless voice called out. Sophia could easily imagine that same voice calling out "Shoot her!" or some other phrase ordering to end her life. There was no mercy in that voice.

Perhaps she should have had one more go at convincing Sassy to retire before giving in so easily to this mission. She hadn't even spoken to Fowl yet and she was already regretting the submission. She needed to be more assertive. After all, she was the eldest and guardian. No use thinking of regrets now. It was time for the presentation.

Taking a deep breath Sophia stepped into the room. She was no longer Sophia Eva Aretha Iver. No, from now until she left the hotel she was Tara Alexis Gavin.

The merciless voice quietly asked her to shut the door. It didn't sound as menacing, but a gut feeling told Tara of bad news soon to arrive.

"_Help me Father."_

What had she gotten herself into?

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Review, please.

And don't skip chapters. I'm seeing that 4&7 are in the double digits whereas 5&6 are still at numbers like 7 and 5. Each chapter is important to the plot, so there is really no point. Honestly

**MDQ**


	10. FirstAppearances are more than deceiving

**What the Voices Say**

Yup, it's the one you've all been waiting for! All 18 of you…

This was going to be a page or so longer, but it is the longest chapter so far, so I'll just lengthen the next one. Sorry about the long wait. Read & reply.

Disclaimer/ Claimer: Artemis Fowl is not mine, nor is anything Arty-related. The rest, however, is. So hands-off!

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Green.

Dark green leaf patterned wallpaper, that is. The woodwork was stained a dark brown. The armchairs and couch were upholstered burgundy with brass nail heads along the arms. It's strange how the mind picks up on tiny insignificant details when it had much bigger things to worry about. Maybe it's trying to grasp on to any thing, _anything_ to save itself. Or maybe the mind looks for distraction in moments such as the one this girl was experiencing.

She crossed to the desk in front of the large window with light, slow, careful steps, taking in her surroundings. The chair behind the desk faced the window. Tara couldn't make out any sort of face or figure.

The room was nice enough, high class and dull as expected. Nothing outstanding. She was not looking foreword to this seduction. Master Fowl sounded boring. Some middle-aged millionaire who was still living with his parents. Who had an ego (and bank account) large enough to buy himself a bodyguard with a reputation. Yeah, he was smart, but there was no excitement if he wasn't…special. He just sounded like another upper-class snob.

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When Artemis heard the sound of leather being sat on he massaged his temple, swung around to face this new contestant and was hit. She was quiet lovely, the most beautiful and authentic so far. Obviously natural red hair almond shaped blue-green eyes, pale skin that was barely darker than his own. She couldn't be any older than himself, or barely younger.

A beauty she may be, but he needed someone that he could put up with and his mother would approve of. Now he needed her to open her mouth. "_Please."_ He silently begged. Part of him was still pulling to find no one, to go away in bitter disappointment, convincing his parents there was only heartbreak in store for him.

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Sophia, or rather Tara, recived shocked finding when the high backed chair faced her. This man was not in his mid-thirties and balding. This man was at least a decade younger than expected. Raven hair, white skin, one hazel, one blue-black eye, Artemis Fowl was hot. Not any old perverted, cranky snob. In his Armani suite, hand made loafer with black silk tie he was sharp. So, maybe this job wouldn't be so dull. Perhaps even fun.

Artemis Fowl was the young Irish millionaire.

"You are Tara Gavin." He finally said. There was an odd look on his face. Something like mild surprise. The papers on the desk before him listed names of all the "winners". She could see at a brief glance her name.

"Yes, Master Fowl."The voice that replied was light a promising in a unexpecting way. This had been the one he expected to fail his expectations.And few of the interview victs had known enough to use the "title". Maybe this one had done research…? The IQ number listed below was the highest, she wasn't an idiot. Or quiet a genius. At least, not quiet the genius Artemis was.

He became brisk, straight to the point in questioning her. No pleasantries. _Good._ Sugarcoating killed her.

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It was is third question that gave her a strike.

"Are you pure Irish?"

To his extreme dislike the girl snorted. "Is anyone?"

He merely looked back at her, tapping his fingers on the wood.

"No, I'm half. Mother was French-Irish, 80 Irish, she live in America. My father's family was uncorrupted, pureblood. Does that but any marks against me?"

He eyed her. This silly girl was proving she was nothing more than defiant, definitely average.

"How did you like the test?" He asked, casually enough. If she was so smart as the percentile had claimed she would answer in an appropriate manner.

Tara smiled. Fowl had nothing on her yet.

"I had fun with it. Maybe I recived a point or two higher than usual, but I did my best to dim it down. Don't want to scare the examiner. Too much. A nice achievement."

A single black eyebrow rose delicately. "You see two points as a 'achievement' then? Only two points?"

"Yes. I see getting up in the morning and making good coffee as an achievement. The small things are what make life bearable. One must see the small as great to get through a day, a year, a life. It keeps me positive." She shrugged. "Though the best part is causing the snobby professor to cry."

"Quiet."

He saw the girl fighting to bite her lip, a habit he detested. She saw his aloofness as a bad sign. Should he keep playing the game or throw her a bone? She honestly wasn't that bad. The best so far. At least she wasn't prattling on about her "SnowBall-Kitty". He would try this time. She wasn't like the others. A little 'yoga-inner-peace-organic' crazy it seemed, though he did support the "Go-Green" campaign.

They sat in silence (something they both noticed they had lately done quiet a lot of), eyeing the architecture, furniture, art, décor, etc. looking at everything but each other, wondering at the other's strategies. Artemis was…well, because that's what Artemis did; it was kind of a pastime. Tara because technically, it was now her job.

"_I'm wasting time, but why doesn't he speak? I need something."_ She thought _"Anything__. Is this a waste?"_

"_She isn't a simpleton…but why play theses games? I almost detect lies, but it's just a trace. Nervous…?" _Artemis's brow furrowed. "_Still, she is the best one, so far. I need just a little more…" _Suddenly he recalled the questionnaire the ladies had been sent. He shuffled the papers a little, escaping her notice till he found hers.

"So, why did you respond to this advertisement?" To his relief she didn't seem to recall the question. However she did grin.

"Actually my sister forced me into this. She's a huge fan of your works, and thinks you're my type, whatever my type is."

"Why didn't she respond?" He didn't ask how the young woman knew it was in fact Artemis who posted the article.

"Too young. Besides, with her constantly reading teen magazines and taking the quizzes she considers herself quiet the little matchmaker." Tara rolled those eternal green eyes the young genius found enchanting.

"Do you think you are my type? I know you haven't even known me for 5 minutes but… perhaps?"

Tara mused this question (or at least pretended to, it was all theatrics). "I cannot yet say. If I did I would be lying."

"You're the first to be completely honest."

"I imagine it is quiet hard to lie with such little information about one's interviewer. There is little about you in the advertisement, Master Fowl. And those with the advantage of know whom they're meeting would know better than to even attempt."

Artemis nodded in agreement.

"Want to specify the falsehood you've heard today?"

"Some were misguided as to who I was. One or two claimed to have known it was me all along, though the first asked my name the moment she sat down-"

Tara fought a laugh.

"-3 have proposed on sight, and 7 have left the room in tears. Then 4 spoke to me for maybe 3 minutes claimed they had ESP, saw a future marriage, or was my lover in a past life."

It was amazing. He was bonding with this woman he'd known for less than 10 minutes.

"I'm sorry. Honestly." She shook the red tresses. "That must have been really difficult. People of a lesser understanding than you, it looks all immature, stupid doesn't it? I can't imagine life like that."

Artemis cocked he head. "You can't?"

"I'm not that intelligent." She laughed lightly. " My mother had always encouraged to be understanding of people in general. She taught me that in the world people don't watch out for you; it really is every man for himself. Just because someone glares at everybody on the underground or makes a rude remark doesn't mean that they necessarily direct it at you, maybe they're having a bad day and no one else to reflect the heat on to. "

"Do you excuse all faults as that?"

"Hardly. I tend to be very unforgiving when the offense is without justifible reason."

Another laps of silence. Artemis noted the used of past tense when Tara spoke of her mother.

"Tell me about your family, Miss. Gavin. "

Tara shifted uncomfortably. "I'd rather not, please." She asked softly. "I had a loss, recently."

_Poor girl. _"My condolences."

"Thank you."

Butler came in. "Artemis, are you ready to see-"

He flipped his clipboard, scanning the list of names.

"Knightly. Kiera Knightly."

"No, Butler, thank you. Tell the ones who ask I am taking a call. Miss. Gavin will stay here."

The bodyguard appeared barely surprised, nodded once saying "Yes, Master Fowl." while he closed the door behind himself.

_Has he been eavesdropping? _Tara wondered, then noticed Artemis looking at her. She smiled. "Your poor manservant. Dealing with all the disgruntled woman. Are you sure he'll be able to defend himself?"

Artemis took a moment to consider whether she was trying humor or had extreme short-term memory loss.

Fowl finally gave a smile. It was amused at her or the bodyguard she couldn't tell.

"I'm quiet sure Butler can fend for himself. If not them the women are an incredible amount stronger than they appear. Or Butler has been drugged. Heavily. And I would only have one date this week.

"You were going for more than one?"

"Unfortuantly. The rules were specified 15 or more."

"'Rules'?"

His smile faded. "My parents. They wanted me to date every rich and royal in Europe and America. I compromised for this."

Tara tilted her head. "Wouldn't you rather randomly find someone in a café on a rainy day while you both order raspberry tea rather than interview 50 some-odd strangers gathered by an anonymous newspaper add?"

She asked. _You must be very lonely._

"Yes. But things have brightened recently." Artemis flashed her another smile. He really did like this girl. She was compassionate. Sure there were habits that he didn't like, but people could change. When he was finally done with her she would be a different person. A less annoying person. There was no other woman in tat lounge five doors down that would suite him better (or really pretend to, even if she didn't know it.) better than the one before him.

"Miss. Gavin?"

"Yes, Master Fowl?" The hit of sarcasm made him flinch inside.

"Artemis. Please, call me Artemis." He hesitated. "Would you… would you like to go out on the 15th? Out to dinner? With me?"

_Well of course it's with you, you idiot! _He scolded._ What, would she think you're asking her to let your manservant take her out? _

The actual asking was the toughest part. It was the first time he'd have to ask it. It was unbelievable that he was so awkward when it came to the opposite gender. _I can forge Mozart's, exploit fairy technology, steal magic but I cannot talk to a girl. Pathetic. _

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Three days?! In three days? So soon? They hadn't planned on such a short time. The 15th was the one day that they made the long journey to the town by the sea to see Papa…

"I would love to…Artemis."

Sasha would understand. They could go earlier instead. It was important to the plan. Refusals, playing hard to get, acting unimpressed, none of that was optional right now.

"Thank You, Miss-"

"Tara." She cut him off. "I am Tara."

"Tara." He repeated.

She grinned. Keeping the language casual would help him. She suspected his overly formal manner of speaking was damaging to his social gain. No wonder the media scoffed him at. Then again maybe he liked it that way.

Standing to leave she held out her hand.

"Until Saturday."

Artemis grasped it and swiftly pressed his lips to it before dropping it.

"Good-bye, Tara." He said. "Do you need a ride home?"

"No." She said quickly. No need for him or anyone in his service to see where she lived. "Actually I was hoping to stay and see the other 14. You've got to know you're competition, if you seek a win."

Anyone could see the glimmer of amusement in her eyes. He couldn't tell if she was playing dumb, or sincerely didn't know.

"You should go home. Tell your sister you made it," He said shortly. The thought of he knowing… it made him want to blush. Though why he didn't know. She would be so embarrassed. Or perhaps pleased.

The long look she gave him was unreadable.

Tara crossed to the door. Turing back she glanced at Artemis who was once again facing the window.

_So lonely… _Then she snapped back to Sophia. _I'll win. I don't have time to fix broken hearts. I need to win. _

"Good-bye, Artemis."

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**I wasn't happy with this chapter. But I'll re-review it later. **

**Review, please! **


	11. Speaking French

**What the Voices Say**

This is the end of Chapter 10, but chapter 10 was so long (5 pages!) that I had to either bubble this in with chapter 11 (now 12), scrap, or break it. I know that if this ever went up for publication (never will, AF is not mine!!) this would be on of the chapters removed. But I like it so it stays. There will be more like this, skip it if you like, but it is here. I'll make up for the shortness in the next chapter, which goes a lot faster for those of you who feel it is a slow pace.

I'm being told it is Mary Sue. I just finished chapters 31, 2,3, and 4 (I'm skipping around), it gets better. Hang in there with me. It takes me maybe 2 hours to write a chapter, 30 min to edit, and another 2 to type, edit again, then post. I am trying so hard to up date more, but with school it is difficult.

Disclaimer/Claimer: Artemis Fowl and related characters are no mine, but the plot line, other characters (ie Sophia and Sasha) **Are**, if you want to steal anything ask first. Chances are I'll let ya.

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"Ladies, please, my employer will be with you in a moment. He is taking a very important call right now. All I ask is that you please entertain yourselves. _Quietly. _We have a number of items here to entertain you. Please act in an appropriate manner or we shall be forced to remove you from the premises. _"_

There was a lot of grumbling. And a number of glares directed toward the man who had delivered this news that he would call hostile. Homicidal, even. He was use to it.

It was not Butler's job to baby-sit a group of unhappy, juvenile woman. It was Butler's job and preference to protect Artemis. He would much rather be in London escorting his charge to the latest Andrew Lloyd Webber musical (even if he disliked musicals in general), or in South Africa waiting for a shipment of some valued Fowl Enterprises product while checking for would-be assassins creeping around the deck of the _Aurum Fowl, _Artemis's cruise ship he had recived on hie 18th birthday (even though that would be dull work).

But Domovio wasn't doing any of those activities. No, he was listening to a 20 year old hair-brain complain his (Butler's) employer was making the woman wait. Butler shuddered at the thought of one of these shrew females as Artemis's wife. Then they would have control over Butler as well as the Fowl .

He did not need this. First he had to get up at three to secure the perimeter, kick out some girls who had managed to sneek in, get Artemis in here while defending him from the media since apparently someone had alerted them to the location of the interviews, and listen to the young man prattle on about 'How surprised he was that so many had qualifyed considering how only a small percent of the earth's woman were red heads, let alone high IQ-ed people" .Then tell the consigiers the refreshments provided were not up to the millionaire's standereds, now he was filling in for the absent security officer. He now had to wonder if there had never been an officer, that Artemis had maybe never said it would be he, Butler, who would be in charge of the girls, knowing Butler would draw the line there.

It wouldn't surprise him. The only thing that had surprised him was just how interested Artemis was in the girl that was still in the room five doors down. What she had done to interest Master Fowl was lost on him.

Just as he was about to call Artemis again a red head came up to him. This was of little amazement; the room was full of them. She was familier, perhaps the last girl his escourted, the one named...Gavin. Before she could speak he cut her off saying

"Look, ma'am, he is still on call. I'm sorry, he'll be done-"

"Oh," She said, in French (which, luckily Butler could speak fairly well, though no where near as good as his employer). "No. It's not about that. Artemis told me to tell you to dismiss the others, he found one. But the phone hasn't been working, and he says he's too busy to fix it."

With that she left. Butler stared after the redhead in the teal dress, picking up details. Not very many, but information was important to gather. The smallest thing could solve the biggest crime, something the bodyguard knew from past experince.

Then his phone rang. He flipped it open and answered with out even looking at the caller ID. Only one person knew this particular number. "Yes, Artemis?"

"Dismiss the rest." His employer barked into the phone without greeting. He was agitated. The last one must have been really bad.

"Didn't you sent the last girl down here saying the same thing?"

"What?! What did she look l-" Then caught himself in a stupid question. Butler picked it up for him.

"She was the Gavin girl, the one who spoke French…very good French, like a Parisian! though to my knowlage no one here could."

"Wha- I--Ah…right. Well. Carry on, Butler." And he hung up.

Butler looked down at the mobile in confusion. Before he had just been a little concerened. Now with Artemis fumbling words he was a little nervous. _Who_ was that girlNobody, save Holly Short, could scarethe young man.

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The young millionaire was massageing his temple, then chuckled.She was playing games. Laughing at him, proving she knew a bit of his game. And her French! He was sure she could pass as a native, even if he hadn't heard it. Next time he spoke to her he'd be sure to switch langauges frequently, to test her. That was one question he'd forgotten to ask. He'd forgotten many, she had lead the conversation away so much…

Minerva never would have done tricks like this. She was too old, looking down upon childish things like this, though she often did herself to impress people.

This would be fun, Artemis decided. It's only for a short time, I can enjoy it. Throwing off the suites for a little while would be…an interesting experiment.

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I didn't like this chapter either. Couldn't decide how to end it. And it's short. But Butler had to meet her at some point.

Review, please!

-MDQ


	12. What we say in the Beginning

Yep, it's the one you've been waiting for.

For anyone who doesn't under stand Italian (like myself) email me for info. Honestly, you can do without it. For those of you that do, I'm sorry if it's not properly phrased. I can't speak it; everything came from an online dictionary.

You know the drill, read and review!

My thanks to katana777, Belle07, fanXforever and many others who have reviewed, or a the very least read this Fanfiction. It's chapter layout plans to be over 40 chapters long (yeah, I know, it'll take me forever) But I have 22 of the 42 chapters written, and the deadline in June. Wish me luck!

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Artemis called, suggesting they meet for dinner in a trendy café by the harbor. Meet, not pick up by her request, the girls having not gotten an apartment to act as the prop to be "Tara's" home. Not that Artemis was privy to this information.

With the time to ponder their meeting Artemis had found (using a neutral side of his logic) her character too casual, her tone too sharp, her intellect to…natural was a word for it-she seemed to irk only him with it as opposed to scaring the average person-, and her wardrobe an little too…too…

"Slutty" was the only adjective that came to mind, and the kindest compared to the other in Artemis's large vocabulary.

She wouldn't suite him for long term, but this game wouldn't end just because of a few minor flaws. He was having fun. He could mold her to fit his needs, then after he was done…

Okay, "throwing-her-back-to-the-ditch-she-came-from" seemed a bit extreme. He'd simply let her go. By the time he was through with the girl she would be a more productive, polite, and fuller person. It would be a win-win situation. Perhaps he could even explain it to her, promise money, knowledge, power, something. They would make a business deal. Some how he had to make it more humane, kinder to her.

"_Artemis has changed! He doesn't use people anymore, not like before, anyways."_

The young man cringed as he recalled the words some brave fairy had told her commander when questioned of her comrade's loyalty. He had changed… the girl would get compensation, he wasn't using her. Just… taking advantage of her lack of knowledge and her lovely appearance.

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"Hello, Artemis."

The keen eyes peered out at him behind the frames of dark sunglasses. She slid them off and offered a shy smile. Had it really been only 3 days? She looked even more beautiful than on the 12th, glorious, and stunning, momentarily taking his breath away.

He looked a bit startled at being addressed by such a wonder that he was silent for longer than necessary. Her smile began to slightly fade. Finally he offered a cool smile then stood to pull out her chair.

" Tara. Good to see you again. You look lovely."

Today she was in black slacks, some pink flowy thing, strappy black-with-rhinestones heels, and a crystal pendant necklace. Still not quiet her style. She was a classic beauty. Vintage style along with toned down colours would suite her well, he would have to work on that also. This was still better than the dress, not that it hadn't made her look appealing just… too appealing. The genius didn't want the relationship to move that far.

"You as well. How'd the other rendezvous go?" She was trying so hard to keep a straight face, but it was so hard.

"Ah, this is my first. And only."

"Really?"

" No. No one else caught my eye. They might have, had they stayed."

"Too bad."

Artemis shrugged. "I didn't think I would have given a fair evaluation after having met you. So I dismissed them. Or I was going to. Odd, how shortly after you left, so did they. Apparently-" His hazel-and-blue eyes sparkled. "-You 'Beat me to the punch", I believe the term is?"

He quiet liked the rose-colored her cheeks became after _he_ "Beat her to the punch".

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"You are an artist?" Artemis asked interestly.

"Mm-hmm. I don't sell much; it's more a hobby now than a career. I work more than I sell. The process calms me."

The sisters had always found that lying and acting was always easier when the lie was close to the truth, or the subject was something you felt strongly about; the two most strongest feelings being love and hate they worked from that. So Sophia sat across from a man who could easily kill her, lying quiet smoothly, feeding the acting through her love of art. Everything was faster that way. The girls kept the lies more controlled; less tangled and messy, than normally is seen, they could keep the lies straight better. It was also more convenient due to Artemis's own passion for the talent of panting, sculpting, drawing et cetera.

"I find that the more one enjoys their profession, the better they are at it."

"Ha. Well, it appears my love is greater than my talent, since no one is buying. But that is good; I would hate to lose any of my pieces, they each tell a story, my story."

"Can I hear one?"

"It wouldn't make sense without the canvas here. Maybe some day."

"Who is your favorite ar-"

But the waiter had arrived to take their orders. She ordered some Mediterranean pasta dish, and he requested steak. Medium-rare. She raised a brow. He didn't seem like a steak kind of guy. But she barely knew him.

"Are you vegetarian? " He asked, frowning. Not at her, at himself. He should have asked before the meal. His mental self slapped his forehead in disgust

"No, no." She said hastily. "You just did not seem to be the steak type. More…soup. Yes, I imagined you a soup guru."

"Soup?" He mocked offense. "You're saying I'm dull?"

It worked; she laughed. "I don't know, Artemis. What do you do with your spare time?"

"Hmmm." He mused. "I work on quantum-physics essays, read things like computer manuals and '_Critical Theory Since Plato'" _

She tossed him a "_Good-God-you've-got-to-be-joking"_ look.

"Seriously?"

The pale young man across the table smirked.

"No. I read, yes, but novels not anything of educational worth. And I paint. Most argue I exceed more in drawing."

"Really?" She leaned forward. "Abstract, impressionist, classical style or…life drawings, perhaps?"

Her excitement was catching. Artemis allowed himself a smile. " A mix. It depends on what I'm feeling. I also compose. ? More classical works, but I have let out some more…modern pieces. Since we're on the arts, could you tell me whose pieces you favour?"

"Mmm." She bit her lip, a habit Artemis disliked, but kept to himself. It wasn't proper first date etiquette to attempt to teach your date manners. One rule he'd learned first hand.

It took a while to consider. _Da Vinci, O'Keefe, Picasso, Remenbrant… or that one abstract artist…what were they called?_

"Annie Leibovitz." She finally announced. "She's a photographer-"

"I'm familiar with her works" Artemis started, but she cut over him quickly, picking up on his knack to lecture.

"My favorite photo is the one on the Chrysler building. Where the dancer is on the gargoyle. It has a flow to it, a peace, even though this man is up on this ledge of metal, hundreds of feet away from the busy, car-infested ground. " She smiled. "And the John Lennon photo. It was so caring. You could see the love."

The look on her face was dreamy. He took note that she had ended the last sentences in French. It was something of a second language to her, falling into sentences whenever she seemed to be out of herself. Maybe due to the fact her mother was French she grew up speaking it, putting English and French together randomly in some phrase became habit.

"And yours?"

"Da Vinci." He answered. In Italian. Perfect Italian. "He isn't my favorite, though one I admire greatly."

She gave a curious glance but didn't ask to be answered. "A good choice."

"Yours was interesting. Would you like to meet her? Annie?"

Her eyes went wide. _" __Puio fai quello_, Artemis?"

"_Si, esso aspirante essere mio compiacersi." _He smiled. "_Fa __quanto__Dopo__settimana__forse__?" _

"Maybe." She tilted her head. "That's excellent Italian. Perfectly accented. I sound like a blundering American."

She sighed.

"Really? I though you were quiet good. Who taught you?"

"Some neighbor I had years a go, a little Italian woman. Very kind." She replied vaguely. "Food's here."

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"Tell me about your sister."

"Ah, my sibling. Sa-" But she stopped her self in time, blushing. "-arh. Sarah."

She was really getting too caught up, forgetting she was not Sophia, but Tara. Mentally she smacked her self.

"She is wonderful. Knows me better than anyone. We get along most of the time, though it is hard, with out a parental unit around. Gets a little…wild. 9 years ago she was diagnosed with Schizophrenia. Outbreaks aren't as bad now that she's on medication. When she was a child…" Tara shuddered. "I love her, though. More than anything."

"How old is she?"

"Nearly 17. A rebellious teen. Normal. Perfect"

"Is she …as intelligent-"

"As I am?" Artemis nodded.

"No. We don't think it was necessarily a genetic trait. She's more like Mama. Stubborn. Looks like her too. Blue eyes. But she isn't stupid. Her IQ is great, for her age. If we had let her go to a public school in America, like she wished she would have been in the academically gifted class."

"Is she annoying, with that stubbornness?"

"Ha. No again. She's the organized one, actually. The neat freak. I earned the title of most frustrating, the room is chaotic when leave."

She was loosing track again. Sasha had said he was very orderly, she was proving to be opposite. _Get back_ _on track, Sophie. _

"Does she clean for you?"

"No. I ask her to, never. I can pull my own weight. She just usually pushes me to do so, most of the time I'm so wrapped up in the latest piece."

This was annoying. Artemis should hate this girl. She was messy, rude, flashy. Yet he liked her. Quiet a lot. He took a sip of his water and though of another question. Maybe this answer would make him hat the girl. A very strong part of him wanted to, somehow he just couldn't muster the emotion.

"Could you live without her? Move? Or are you going to live together forever?"

That came out wrong. Now he was being rude.

She laughed, a beautiful sound. " Go insane. She has been talking of moving out lately. I've done my best to convince her otherwise. It's sad really. I'm acting like her mother, pretty so I'll be dressing like one."

_Please do._ Said one side of his conscience.

_But she's so young! _Said another, in a whisper. The side that liked this girl.

"Are you ever worried with her illness that she might hurt herself if she were to live alone?" He asked

"Yes. Yet another reason why I ask her to stay. Suicide rates are higher now than ever. Save 1929."

"You speak of death openly."

"I do. Sugarcoating it is something I can't stand. I mean, yeah, kids can have it, but me? My sister? We've seen it. We know it. There's no point lying about it, not talking about it. 'Death is but the next great adventure.'" She shrugged, wine glass in hand, the liquid sloshing about in the glass.

"Does that mean you give truths, bluntly state everything?"

"No. But I try to give honestly. When you could loose everything in a blink, you are more open. Staying with reality makes you enjoy and accept life more too."

"Not many people see from that perspective."

"Oh, they do." She gave a sad smile. "But it's easily forgotten. Anger, rage, jealousy. They consume you. Amazing really, as love is the strongest emotion. I would never forgive myself if that rage caused Sas-Sarah to commit suicide. So I try, harder than most."

Artemis simply looked at her. Such a clear un-muddled sense of her world. The world she thought she knew. She was brave, to accept death. People of her age rarely could. People of 21 are not so serious.

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Coffee, it turned out, was her favorite beverage. In any form. Cream, sugar, black, iced the girl loved it. Instead of trying to change this disgusting love of such a nasty drink Artemis sipped his own Earl Gray and continued the questioning. Well, he attempted to. Tara apparently wanted to do some interrogating of her own. Not that he objected.

"Why isn't Butler here?"

"It's his night off."

"Do you feel safe without him?"

"Fairly."

"Who is your closest friend?"

"I don't have many." He admitted. "Most of the boys at University were fools. I saw no need to associate with them."

"Are you lonely? Do you want friends?"

"Are you a physiatrist? Trying to psychoanalyze me? " He teases.

"Maybe. I know you are, on both accounts. PhD, right?"

"Perhaps."

"What haven't you done? MD, multiple PhDs, an author, discovery of alternative energy sources, musician, artist…inventor, I'll bet too. Talked to any ghost lately, or seen fairies? Time traveled much?" Tara grinned.

"A little."

"Take me with you, Artemis?"

"Hmmm. Maybe. Just tell me where."

Those green eyes sparkled. " Paris, late 1800s. Or Rome, Caesar's rise. Egypt, the golden era. Neferiti's reign. Anywhere. Venice, where the masters worked!"

"Someday, I promise."

"And we'll eat gelato. I'll buy."

"Anything but lemon flavoured."

The conversation continued at a rapid pace. Until it hit one tiny speed bump.

"Why did you advertise in the newspaper? Surely you knew…" She drifted off, leaving the sentence hanging, biting her lip.

He just gazed back, daring her to finish the sentence.

Artemis had not wanted this topic to come up, at least not tonight. Of course he knew she would ask, the obvious stupidity of his act was in bold black ink in multiple newspapers. It was strategize, perfect to suite his needs. The IQ he could stand, the age, the beauty, the nationality for god's sake! 160 was nearly impossible for the average person to get on a duped IQ test. The women who actually had red hair (considering how few there were) and the number of people with IQs over 160 averaged out to be a small number. This man, a man of extreme intellect could surely see that!

But Artemis could answer honestly; that it was a game, and a way for him to remain single. Because that would hurt her, and he was really starting to like this girl. But he couldn't lie; she almost for sure would detect it. Earlier in the evening she had proven she could quiet easily sense forgery of emotion.

And she wouldn't stop staring right back. With a sigh he finally answered. The truth…to a percent. He wasn't lying, just…not giving up all the cards. Only a few.

"I'm not sure." He shook his head. " I wanted to make my parents happy, just on my terms. They were going to prance me around like I was some prized hound to all the rich of Europe. They just wanted what was best for me. I could marry anyone, rich or underprivileged, and it wouldn't have mattered. I know they only were trying to help, but I just didn't want their rules. So, I compromised. I stay on the dating scene for a year and six months, with my terms, women I choose. They get to meet, give input, generally approve-disapprove whomever, but I d get final say. If in that year and a half I do not get engaged, I can do whatever I wish with my love life. So, I choose to put an ad in the newspaper-"

"Not expecting any decent girls."

"Not really, no. But I did find you."

"Hm."

"And I like you a lot. Quiet a lot."

" Right." His pleading expression was heartbreaking. If you were 10 years old, blind, and/or had a basic idea of human expression. "So, I'm a ticket for you to get out of Mummy and Daddy's marriage contract. Date me for a year and a half, you can marry a male model for all they care, right?"

"No. You're a 'I'll-give-dating-another-shot-maybe-this-beautiful-girl-can-work-out-ticket.'"

"I'm serious. The only reason I'm here is for Sarah. I want a real relationship."

"As do I."

Silence presumed. And nothing but for the next four minutes while they sipped their after dinner drinks.

" You don't express yourself well with people, do you?"

"No. Not really. When I was young-"

Tara leaned over, gave him a peck on the cheek, achieving the desired affect of shutting him up.

"Please, no after meals psychology, Artemis."

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It was better than expected. A lot better. Sorry for the wait, I've been reading. Speaking of which…

"**The Sweet Far Thing" **by Libba Bray

"**Jinxed" **by Meg Cabot

and the **Artemis Fowl Graphic** novel are all great reads.

Just sayin'. They're good.

No offense to my lovely red-haired readers. In the above I did not mean that red heads a necessarily less intelligent than people of other hair colours, simply that with the fact that you are rare and people with IQ over 150 are too a hard find in mind, the average is slim. Not that I am implying any lack of intellect of our world's "reds" as they are so fondly called in the US. Oddly enuff, bald people get this name more often.

-**MDQ10**


	13. Small Talk

Originally, this was 8 paragraphs, no dialog. Luckily for you, I was bored. And I have a sea of ideas in my noggin. Have fun with it. I'm still bored.

DISCLAIMER: Artemis Fowl isn't mine.

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Sasha's glare was ten times worse than usual. Sophia had a very faint idea of what she had done wrong, but really wasn't in the mood for a verbal beating personalized for her by her sister tonight. All she wanted was to go to bed. Sleep forever. Sassy could thrash her out in the morning over coffee. It was too late.

When Sophia reached the living room, where the computer desk faced the foyer she ignored her sibling and started up the stairs, hoping Sasha would get the message.

"SOPHIE!"

Apparently not.

"What Sasha?" She called back in a bored, hopefully tired voice. Silence followed, so Sophia trudged back down to the living room, the room where Sasha had set up office.

Sasha had her glasses on. They only intensified the glare, made it even more formidable. Being use to her sister's constant outrage due to her own constant mess-ups, the expression was quiet a lot less threatening. But still. It was scary.

"You-" Sasha's teeth were gritted.

"-Are-" Her eyes were bugging out of her head.

"-Getting-" honestly, Sophia worried about her sister's blood pressure. Being this upset so often surely wasn't good for her heart.

"-Too-" It was going to be only a matter of time once she hit 40. Years away yes, but she could improve that not. Uh-oh, now here comes the boom.

"-INVOLVED!!!!!"

Just for the sake of theatrics, Sophia gave a yawn. But she really was tired.

"Sophie, do you not understand how dangerous this is? How if you let anything big slip, we could wake up dead?"

At that Sophia opened her mouth to argue that they most likely wouldn't wake at all, but Sasha cut her off.

"You are not Sophia, you are Tara Gavin. You are a professional artist, you are not a bohemian abstract-Are you pay attention?"

"No."

"Sophie."

"You really sound like the responsible older sibling, you know. When that's my job."

"Sophie."

"I said we shouldn't do this. It's too risky."

"You're the one taking the risks."

"I'm sorry if I am getting a little caught up in the lies. It won't happen again." She stood to leave.

"Sophie. Listen to me."

Silence. Nothing.

"I know, I sound like some old dolting mother, but I'm only trying to protect us."

"Why didn't you do it, Sassy?" Sophia asked quietly. "Why didn't you?"

"Cause I'm not Tara!" She snapped. "I'm not the one who can sit there and discuss silly, smart, important things. I can't. You're the one who can. I don't know how to explain it better than that."

"Sassy, you knew I'd get too caught up in this. He's too interesting."

"Then leave it." The response was cold, blunt. Obviously stated.

"Ho-wha-Leave? Leave what?"

"You can drop it, leave. Or you can play with it, stay, until it leaves you."

With that Sasha flicked the lamp light off leaving them in total darkness.

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On their third date they both had each other's moods and movements figured, though it was kept to themselves-to a point. Tara apparently loved to tease to aloof young man, taking the opportunity whenever it aroused. Anything from basically mind reading to voicing his expression and ordering his food for him. Artemis suspected she did in part to taunt him, and in part to show off. All to often she had a smug look on her face after such an event. He took to returning the favour, but without all as much apparent satisfaction as she had.

One thing she did at every meal, or movie, or whatever they did was insist on paying. Since he didn't know her financial status, he refused. Because she hadn't let him pick her up, he assumed her place was something cheap, but when he remembered her clothing…obviously some expensive stuff. Maybe she just didn't want him to see her home. When he finally got the guts to ask, there wasn't much given.

"So…" he trailed, trying to find a good way to ask. "Where do you live?"

"Near the river. Southside." A slight smirk. Whether at himself or the answer he couldn't tell.

"In a apartment, or do you have a house?" He took a sip of the soda she had yet again ordered. This time she had picked a casual place to dine, one that served steak, burgers, and fries. Artemis had few experiences with soda, and the carbonation was tickling his nose, making it harder to concentrate.

"We have a house."

"What kind?"

"A nice one."

"Is it large?"

"Yes, fairly. 3 stories."

"What colour?"

Tara gave an exasperated sigh. "Most people," She raised a brow, still smirking faintly. "Would have given up by now, having recived such responses. Most people-" Her mouth quirked. "Would have dropped the subject and left it alone."

"Most people wouldn't persist as I do. Are you a very good interior decorator? Any murals?"

She shot a glare. "Well, at the very least you've had a chance to annoy the hell out of me." He thought he heard her murmur under her breath.

It was on their 5th date when he had started hinting his dislike of certain habits, such as interruptions, lip biting, knuckle popping et cetera. She hadn't taken the hint, or either did not care.

By their 8th official date it was comfortable between them. Artemis found how easily he could speak his mind and for once not get blank stares back as often as he did when expressing his thoughts. That was a nice change.

However, he was letting too much emotion in. She knew him too well, for such a short time. The plan was being forgotten, he was developing…_feelings_ of real friendship toward Tara. This hardly ever happened to him, he hated most of the populace. Something was different about her, sure she had some flaws but she was hitting all the right nerves…

Normally Artemis would have keyed on to her unreal perfection, the attraction she had, but lately the young millionaire had been lost in all his plans.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Business was dull, as usual. Fowl Industries, while energy sufficient, filled with brilliant minds, loyal customers, still need Artemis's guide. He had to go in at least once a week, four times a months. The skyscraper in the downtown Southside Dublin area was modern, sleek, and black. The Fowl Industries sign was similar, with a silhouette of a great falcon about to close down on a silver star. A symbolism that was easy to read.

On this rainy day, Artemis stared out of the limousine in a trance, barely paying attention to the busy streets. The city was nice, just…uninteresting today. He didn't feel like arguing with his manager whether they should advertise more, o if the August Gala was to be in the colours of the company, or if he needed more media attention. Nothing mattered, really. He saw no reason to come in today, but if he was already here…

A flash of rust caught his eye. He fumbled to sit up properly, and began to scan the sidewalk for the person. Finally he spotted her. A woman with long red hair, pulled back in a headband. She was striding down the street, causally looking into the shops, wearing a brown skirt, green jacket… her manner of walking was close to that of Tara. Artemis cast a glance toward the front of the car, wondering if he should stop the car, investigate further.

Tedious day in the office or pleasant day with Tara? Choices, Choices… 

"Butler." He commanded. "Stop the car."

The bodyguard was startled, but complied without question, pulling over to the curb. Artemis stepped out, telling his manservant he'd be back soon, don't get out. Butler objected, but Artemis reassured him he wouldn't go far. "Just down the street."

"Fine."

Artemis hadn't really noticed that the limo had caused a bit of a stir and many were looking curiously at him or the vehicle. The titian hair girl didn't appear to see the commotion, or didn't care. Cautiously he made his way through the crowded sidewalk to her. When he was nearly 8 feet away he paused, looking at her.

Yes, it was Tara all right. But somehow not Tara. This girl had on a more natural outfit than she usually allowed. A fawn-coloured suede skirt, a sage green sweater that appeared to be cashmere, and boots matching the skirt completed the ensemble. It was something he had only imagined she would wear, and look great in! Her dark auburn hair coupled with the pale skin really enhanced the clothing. Or rather, it enhanced her.

She had stopped outside of a bookstore, picked up a novel and was reading the inside flap. The gorgeous green eyes glance over the glossy paper at lighting speed. Thinking quickly Artemis plucked the book from her hand and glanced at the title.

"An interesting read." He smirked.

"Hey you!" She swatted his arm. "You could have just said hello, instead of giving me a heart-attack."

"It wouldn't have been as fun. What are you doing?"

"Shopping." She said slowly, like one would to a small child. "What people do when they need something and have money burning a hole in their pocket. What about you?" She looked momentary at his Armani suite. "Business or a date?"

"Business. And I never take anyone but you out."

"Boy, do I feel special." Her tone was dripping with sarcasm.

"Speaking of which, what are you doing the rest of the day?"

Something flickered in her eyes, but was quickly gone. Was that…fear.

"Nothing." She said coolly. "But I'd best not keep you, duty calls, bye!"

Before she could escape he had caught her waist and was pulling her back. "I'd be willing to skip out to take you to lunch."

"No, Artemis, you don't need to do that." But he was already dragging her toward the limo. "Seriously, you don't."

"To tell you the truth, I'd rather miss the meeting anyways."

"I wouldn't want you to miss anything important." She said hastily. "Besides, won't you get in trouble?"

He rolled his beautiful hazel-and-blue eyes. "Tara, I _own_ the company. Even if I did, what can they do about it?"

"But I don't want-"

"Tara." He said firmly. They had reached the car. People were staring. "Let's go to lunch. It doesn't matter."

He had finally released her waist and she was pressed up against the car. Artemis's face was close, less than a foot of space between them. For a second it was as if the world had stop. It was only them. She stared into his eyes, he gazed back into hers. At that moment she realized the debate was a lot bigger then him simply taking her to lunch.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"What would you like to do?" He asked pleasantly when they had been on the road for nearly 5 minutes. She assumed it had taken him that long to recover from what had passed between them. Not that she knew what had happened. Something. His eyes still betrayed confusion.

She shrugged. What was there to do? All she wanted was to return home to meditate on occurrences find an answer. Artemis looked at her expectantly.

"Um…want to see a movie?" Yes. A movie. It would give her time to think before he took her to dinner where she was expected to talk.

Artemis nodded to Butler, who began weaving the car through the streets.

"Are you okay?" He asked in a low voice, sincere concern in his eyes.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Just stunned."

He sat back, smirking. "I generally have that affect on woman."

Tara smiled, gently hitting his arm. "Right." She teased. "I'm sure you leave them all swooning, gossiping about how you looked at Elizabeth more than Sally. Older woman, I'm sure."

"So if it wasn't me, then who?"

"Oh, it was you." She assured him. "It was the tie."

"This thing?" He motioned to the conservative stripped tie around his neck.

"Mmm. Dreadfully dull. We need to take you shopping."

"We'll put it on the list." He murmured.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Her eyes were wide. She was shaking a little.

His own control was wavering. It was taking everything keeping him from shaking, to not cling to her, to not …_this is not acceptable. I should be able to keep control of this. I shouldn't even be thinking about this!_ He scolded himself. It was business, a job, not an actual relationship.

Tara was in shock, that much was obvious, but had she felt what he had, out there on the curb? Or was she just surprised he had been so blunt in taking her with him. He was surprised he had been so brave.

_Can face American Crime Lords any day, Willing to go up against the Fairy People, yet cannot even think of asking a girl out without quaking in his loafers. Pathetic. _

He honestly hoped this trait was not genetic.

The poor girl was still shivering, looking out the window, fist under her chin.

"What would you like to do?"

"See a movie?"

Artemis looked to Butler to confirm he had heard, then turned back to her. Leaning toward her he asked. "Are you alright, Tara?"

Her blue-green eyes shot up to meet his. The hint of fear appeared again.

"Yeah. I'm fine…just a little stunned."

He had no idea why she was afraid. Was it something he said? Trying to make light of her mood he tried humor.

"I generally have that affect on woman." He said easily.

"Right. I'm sure you leave them all swooning, gossiping about how you looked at Elizabeth more than Sadie. Older woman, I'm sure. Nobody under 30."

Then she insulted his tie. Not that he minded. She was talking now, seemingly happy.

"-We need to take you shopping."

"I'll put it on the list." He murmured, forcing the thoughts she had awoken back into the depths of his vast mind.

She returned to staring out the window. And he returned to staring at her.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

After the movie Tara requested they walk about instead of driving to the restaurant, since the skies had cleared.

"Why?"

"Because it's good for you. And I want to see the city."

"You live here."

"So? It's not like I've seen everything. Besides, you've never taken a walk around Dublin just because you want to, have you?"

His heaving sigh was the only answer. Tara pouted. "If you really do not want to I won't make you. But you're the one who wanted to play hooky in the first place."

With that he grabbed her hand and they started down the busy sidewalk crowded with tourist.

It wasn't that terrible. His feet hurt, an Armani wasn't proper for sightseeing, and the tourist were snobby, but they had fun. Butler stayed 3 steps behind, but apart from that things were normal. He was just a regular 23-year-old visiting Dublin's historic landmarks with his girlfriend. And he teased her, like any normal guy would do. Things were quiet. No fairies stalking him, no humans hunting him, no deadlines, nobody to mark his ill behavior.

At the end of the day, while the sun was setting, the two walked down by the harbor talking about Buckminster Fuller's theory, when Tara plopped down on to a bench, pulling Artemis with her. She tucked her feet underneath her, and changed the subject.

"Did you have fun today, Arty?" (Artemis regretted telling her his parent's nickname for him; she'd been using it all day)

"Yes. It was…enlightening."

Her smile was radiant. "Wonderful. I was afraid after you wouldn't shut up about your feet that you maybe hated it."

"I did, for a while there. But I have my revenge planned. Opera. _La Bohemia._"

She paled. "You're cruel, Arty."

"You'll live, I promise. You have to, or you won't be able to meet my parents next week."

She when paler still. "I'll die."

"Tara." She shook her head.

"Artemis, parents…I mean, are you sure…?"

"No. But they can't hate you."

"Really? I'm sure they can, it's quiet easy."

"Tara." He leaned closer. "It'll be fine."

The reply was a moan. Now her eyes were closed. Gently Artemis placed her head on his shoulder.

Five minutes of silence passed.

"Tell me something."

"What?"

She cracked an eye open. "Anything. Something interesting. You're a human library, Artemis, give me something. Open the vault of endless, useless information."

"It's not that easy."

She huffed. "Fine. Tell me about Napoleon Bonaparte. Everything about him."

So he started. It took an hour. The sunset, streetlight turned on, people left the sidewalks. She sat still listening to his voice, soaking it in. Eventually he had to stop.

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Yet another chapter I didn't quite like. But I'm taking a break now. It's cold here.

That's all I have to say.

Review, please.

-MDQ10


	14. Wrong Numbers

Chapter 13, Wrong Numbers

It's short. And Arty is not mine flees to corner and weeps.

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He knew she hated fish unless it was (shudder) deep-fried and greasy. She always had ever since, she explained during one dinner, her sister ate one with the scales still on in the local "Fuji" restaurant back in New York then was sick for two weeks after. Actually, she had a bad case of the flu, but both the girls had been young, 4 and 8 respectively so the memory stuck. And fish were banned in the Gavin household.

However there was a reservation made by his father, for a Dublin restaurant that specialized in one thing and one thing only. Fish. And not the cheep fried kind either. No it was all expensive, unappetizing, cold fish. Normally he would simply cancel the reservation and take her to another dinning facility. Unfortuantly, his father had not only made the unwanted reservation for his son and his son's unofficial girlfriend but he had invited himself. And his wife.

So there Arty sat by the phone debating whether he would tell his parents that his unofficial girlfriend didn't like fish in the least, or to call said unofficial girlfriend to explain the situation and offer to take her back out to dinner later that night.

He choose the latter. Angeline would be suspensions of her son's unofficial girlfriend's aversion to seafood. He loved his mother, but she could be a little over-bearing at time. The less disagreeable Tara was portrayed, the easier his mother could accept her.

Artemis made the call, punching in the number of Tara's cell-684-555-and waited.

"_Sophia Iver." _A voice barked into the line. A familiar voice. "_Andre is that you? My __periódica__esta__escrito__? I've not seen it in the papers yet-"_

"Ah, no, this is not Andre. Is Tara present?"

"_Tara?"_ The person on the other line was surprised, which made sense to a point. It wasn't just surprised of a wrong number-caller, but the surprise one gets when they are suddenly faced by a gun barrel. "_No, Uh, I'm sorry, wrong number."_

"Sorry." Artemis didn't know why he was apologizing, but he did. The line was silent. Not dead, but quiet. Artemis wasn't sure why he, nor she didn't hang up.

"_Happens all the time." _A way to hint that he should be the one to hang up.

"I'm sure. Your number must be similar to my girlfriend's she gets a lot of calls."

"_Oh. She's your girlfriend. Cool. Arranging a date?"_ The voice was slightly French-accented, though the woman spoke beautiful Spanish. Who was this person, he knew the voice, just not the face...

"I'm hoping to."

More silence.

"_What's your name?"_

"Artemis, Artemis Fowl." Why, why, why did he say that? Butler would have cried if he knew his charge had been so stupid. _Genius my foot._ The girl didn't seem dangerous, but then again neither did that little old lady back in the café in London.

"_Hm. Never heard of you. Bye."_

Now the line was dead. That was quick. And awkward.

"Bye." He murmured before hanging up himself to re-look up Tara's cellular phone number.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Sophia sat on the couch in her office clutching her knees to her chest, shaking like mad.

She had nearly blown their cover. He knew her name. She had slipped. Forgotten what phone she had answered. Been Sophia, the part-time bohemian artist, the thief, the orphan, not Tara. Broken the 4th wall. The Artemis she knew was a kind person, not violent but…

If he knew…if he realized…. dear gods………….

In five minutes Artemis Fowl and Domovio Butler could come, break down the door, interrogate her, torture her, kill her and …Sasha…no no no no

"**NO!**'

"Sophie!"

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

"Yes, Artemis, I'd love to." Tara stroked the cat on her lap, ironically named Jewel. "Yeah, maybe I can just fill up on rolls and water, no need to waste money." She grinned. "A salad. No, that's fine."

A laugh. "You met someone? Oh, a wrong number? What was her name?"

A pause. "No, I don't know her. See you Tuesday. Buh-bye."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

He had taken note of her repeat questions. The ones that were basically segments of what he had originally said. The kind of questions liars used to buy time. What did she need to cover up? Why would she lie? What did she lie about? The question was, was she lying the whole time, or was she gaining time for expected questions?

His musing was interrupted by a shimmer outside of the window. He saw it barely out of the corner of his eye while bending down to examine his journal. His head snapped up, causing a slight whiplash. No problem, that could be helped in a minute, if his theory was right.

The shimmer was still there. He ran to the window and threw it open. The shimmer seemed to hesitate.

"Come in, Holly." Artemis' Fowl's smile was genuine. Ever the gracious host. "Long time no see."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

This is a very short chapter, I know, but it is full of important info, plus, it's a good lead in to the next chapter, where the questions "Where's Holly and the rest of our cute Fairy friends?" and "Why's Holly here?" will be answered. Expect it tomorrow. I'm tired, so I'll only get maybe 3 pages of Chapter 14 done before my brother steals the computer, or I pass out.

Cheers, Reviews rock.

Thank you to all my regular readers, regular reviewers, and the rest of you.

I finished chapter 35 (not that I've finished _everything_ in between), and things get spicy. Don't worry; it's not all romance.

MDQ10


	15. Throwing Rocks

**Throwing Rocks**

Chapter 15

Artemis Fowl is not mine, but the OC is!

I'm not really sure a diamond can do all the things Artemis implies it can, but teachers are always banging on about how it's the hardest mineral, so whatev. Read and Review.

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"Good to see you." Holly said between bites of the carrot stick Juliet had provided. "It's been a while."

"You as well. How's Foaly?"

"Great. He's engaged!" Both of the females in the room gave a squeal of delight. Butler sighed, use to the enthusiastic response his little sister had to such pieces of new. Artemis winced, though not because of the news, just the frequency of the girl's shrieks

"The wedding is next spring. The Commander managed a huge visa package for a destination wedding, you know, in honor for his 'Great services to the People' during the B'wa Kell rebellion. He's been gloating about it forever. Can't get him to shut up, even when I threaten to take his hoof moisturizer away. " She grumbled. "I think we can accommodate you, Foaly would love it you could come."

While Juliet grinned with pleasure Artemis gave only a small smile.

"Wonderful. My congratulations to the Groom. They've been dating for a while. About 5 years, right?"

"Yes. Oh, and just to remind you, stay away from the Nettle wine this time, guys."

"How can you get such a big hangover from a wine made for people of such ting proportions?" Butler groaned.

Holly only grinned wickedly, returning to her carrot and waved for Artemis to start telling his news. The mud boy had something on his mind, might as well let him spill already.

"There's not much to tell, really. It's been pretty dull-"

Spotting Butler's rolling eyes and Juliet's mischievous grin, he broke down and finally spilled.

"I've met someone. Her name is Tara-"

Holly settled down for one of Artemis's usual rambles, the ones about his latest invention, discovery, or girlfriend.

"She's amazing, we're a lot alike-"

After about three minutes she interrupted. "Great, Artemis, really. I'm happy for you. But you know this visit isn't strictly social. I have a problem. Or we, the People, have a problem. Though not as serious as we usually deal with."

"So if we screw up on this one, the world as we know it won't end?" Juliet asked hopefully. She had only been really involved in two missions like this, but hated the thought of Dom constantly in danger from an unseen force.

"Technically, it could. I'm not sure." Holly gave a brief smiled. When did they ever have assurance of the ending? "They say it might, but frankly, I'll be willing to bet it's a load of centaur dung. Just a show to keep good relations."

"Who exactly is 'they'?"

"The demons. It's stupid, really…fool's errand, if not that, a waste of LEP time and money."

"Explain, if you would. What is it they want?" Artemis asked.

"Quin and No.1 have kept order for a while now, but they recently discovered some ancient text. Some text that claims the demons once held a stone scared to the tribe. It had some mythical power, or something-"

"Mythical my foot. With our luck it'll be cursed, cursed and existent."

Holly went right over him. "I'm not sure why they need it, or what it does, but the point is, they need it. And we have to find it, as a symbol of friendship."

"And you think it might be on the surface."

"It was lost when one of their own traveled through time. He got fried, we're not sure when. The corpus was thought to be a dinosaur, thank the gods, but some English diamond company got it's hands on the rock."

"Holly." Artemis said slowly. "What kind of rock is it? If some diamond company has it that means it might be of value."

"Yeah, it's like a… toppy, tophaz…top-"

"Topaz?"

"That's it! What is it?"

"A very shiny, expensive, rare rock. But still a rock. Why are you involved?"

"Sect. 8 is in charge of demon affairs, so we get to go on the merry hunt for the rock. And I'm the officer they requested."

"So why are you here? I haven't recently brought any stones lately. Although Mother may have."

"No, Artemis, Mrs. Fowl prefers sapphires."

Holly looked at Artemis. "I just need your brain. Maybe some contacts, or leads. But you haven't been following this? I thought you still hack into our system to keep updated."

"How recent is this?"

"Less than two months. The tribe doesn't know yet, else they'd be scrambling up to the surface to 'fight the humans', and we'd have rebellion. But we've still been busy. We had to coax quite a lot of info out of them, read the text ourselves, lean names…why are you blushing?"

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Holly stood by the projector screen sipping a bottle of Irish spring water, the only kind of bottled water allowed in the Fowl Manor. The others sat in various places about the study, staring at her. Artemis impatiently tapped his foot. While he hated twitchiness such as this from others, himself doing did not cause a problem.

Holly glared at him. "I'm thirsty."

"And you're pregnant. Congratulations. Were you planning on sharing that soon?"

She raised a eyebrow, annoyed. "How'd you know?"

"You had a certain glow about you. Trouble must be proud. Now, about the topaz."

After Butler and Juliet had given their own congratulations, she began. Balancing her helmet on the table opposite the screen, clicking it one. A photo 3D of a sparkling yellow stone appeared between the table and the screen, while words in Gnomish appeared on the left translated to English on the right for Butler and Juliet.

"The company had it in one of their warehouses/showrooms-"

"'Had it'?" Interrupted Artemis. "They still don't have it?"

"I'm getting to that." Holly snapped. She was most definitely pregnant.

"-in their showrooms in London. It wasn't high security because the rock wasn't known about, so they figures if nobody knew it existed, nobody would steal it. But somebody did. There was little media about it, and what little there was wasn't significant. About a month ago someone came in, took it and left. It was an incredibly clean job. Fast too."

"I'm surprised you didn't suspect me."

"Oh, we did." Holly said, embarrassed. The People should by now trust Artemis after all the honorable things he'd done. "After 24 hours, when you didn't contact us, we became concerned. We thought maybe you had figured out some connection between the remains and the rock, and maybe took it yourself. On our behalf, of course." She rolled her eyes.

"If I had know, no doubt I would. But keeping for myself would have been out of the question." Artemis said calmly, use to her sarcastic remarks referring to his criminal past. Still it hurt a little.

"Easy, mud boy. We believe you. Now, the warehouse is in the UK, but our sources claim the thieves are here in Ireland."

Artemis raised one raven brow. "Oh really? My name just went up further on the list, I see. Do you know if your thieves even knew the topaz was fairy-related, or if they stole it for the 'powers'? Perhaps it was even a fairy who stole it. A Mulch copy-cat?"

"We can't rule that out. Artemis, we know _nothing_. Foaly can't even recognize what they used to cut the case the stupid rock was in! It was very, very clean. They could be anyone. That's why I'm here."

"What information _do _you have?"

She pressed a few keys and another 3D image came up. It was a map, showing London from a bird's-eye-view. The picture zoomed in to a large building, the rotated so it was now a horizontal view, like you were standing right outside.

"De Beers." Artemis whispered. Butler groaned.

"You know it?" Holly asked.

"Yes." The young man spat. "It's a diamond company. They've very secretive, known to shoot their own employees if they accidentally stay in the mines too long. It's a violent company, ruthless. Very protective of their projects, they also manufacture diamonds-"

"Manufacture? A rock?" Holly asked horrified. Artemis nodded.

"Only so they can keep updated on how to prove other company's' manufactured stones. I've done my best to shut them down, or to at the least get them sued for employee injuries. Did they loose much money in the theft?"

Holly nodded.

"Remind me to shake the thief's hand, when we catch them."

The picture now returned to sky-view, zooming on a sky light, then down into a showroom. A 3D photo of the crime scene. Holly stepped into the image and touched a pedestal near the center of the room. The picture focused.

"The glass is lazer-razor-bullet-steel-iron-just-about-whatever-you-can-chuck-at-it-proof. Very few human tools could do this, and the ones that could would take forever or are too big to bring down from the skylight, their entrance. " She rotated to the top of the case, where a circular section of glass was missing. "No markings,

Nothing. The wire-" She indicated a gray thread that blended perfectly with the gray carpet that covered the pedestal. "-was also sliced by what we assume is the same tool."

Artemis gazed at the scene. "What can cut through anything?"

"Magma? A fairy has access to it, if poured right you could make that hole and not harm the rock. But we can't be sure this is one of the people. Even if it was, we have tools that could do this easily…"

"No, it's human. Completely human."

"I'm lost, Artemis. Form what Holly said, nothing can cut through that in the time the thieves where there. What are you thinking?"

Juliet agreed. "What can cut through anything?"

Artemis's blue-black and hazel eyes glittered with the knowledge of adventure. And challenge. He had another opponent .

"Diamond." He whispered.

It was ironic.

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Review. Please. I've, like, updated this 5 times in the last two weeks, don't I deserve one?

-MDQ10


	16. To Dine with Fowl

**Chapter 16, Dine With the Fo**wls

**DISCLAIMER**: Arty isn't mine. frowns. Unfortuantly.

**R&R,** please . It's been a bad week.

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They mused for a few more hours and got nowhere. Well, nearly. There was one lead: a story Artemis managed to dig up from some conspiracy theory website. It held mostly nuts, but one story caught his eye, partly because he had speculated it himself. A former British Secret Service agent who was active mostly during the Cold War. Many suspected he was a high-profile thief, with a business deal to do the U.K.'s bidding while he robbed various upper class. The government turned their heads, and he spied on neighboring countries. The thing that brought Artemis's attention was a piece of information the author had: The U.K. agent once special ordered a particular knife with a blade of diamond. There was credibility to the source.

But there was also a problem; even if this ex-agent had sticky finger when faced with gems, he was _dead_. Had been for over 5 years. And the knife was gone him.

Nor Holly or Butler really liked this theory. Holly said that whoever stole the knife was probably a common thief, and sold it to a jeweler. Butler doubted the ability of such a knife. "Who could afford such a weapon? "

"I could. He was well paid for his work. The stone wasn't like 14 c, maybe 2 if he saved enough. It wouldn't have been big either. I'm willing to bet he used it on missions, and since it wasn't metal could take it on planes if need be. But it would have to be quite small to pass without causing to much attention."

The group argued for another 30 minutes. Holly finally said she had to get some sleep, and she needed to report on activities. Her host had taken note of the fact there was a full moon that night.

"It's bad for the baby." He insisted. "The body sees the fetus as an invader, a virus. Most women have allergic reactions to pregnancies. So many children are born prematurely, as their mothers' bodies are trying to flush them out. Your magic will increase all possibility of an untimely delivery. From what I've read it the book-"

Rolling her one-hazel-one-deep-blue eyes she departed through the window. Artemis thought heard her mumble_ "Horny perverted little mud boy"_ or something to that effect.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

By the time Friday came Artemis had learned very little concerning the case. Holly stayed until Wednesday evening, brainstorming for hours with him, although in the end she had to leave. She left a line open 24/7 for any updates. There weren't many.

He was nervous. The demands had been casual clothing and no cell phones on either him or his father. It would be, as his mother declared, a true family dinner. To welcome in "Arty's new girlfriend", though it wasn't entirely official yet.

Tara requested one thing Artemis would be more than happy to give: that he sit beside her. He first cleared this with Artemis Sr., to insure Mother wouldn't expect the seat of honor to be hers. Timmy could either explain, or pull her by him when the time came.

A pale blue, light knit sweater with one horizontal stripes in cream heather gray and black, khaki dress pants, and brown hand-made loafers. He hoped by dressing down Tara would feel less pressured, a bit more relaxed. She had sounded nervous over the phone, when he called yesterday, asking him all sorts of questions over what colours would look best on her, should she bring a gift, et cetera. Meeting your future in-laws was nerve-racking, Artemis. Not they were so far they were talking marriage, he hadn't even kissed the girl yet! But he did recall his first real meeting with Minerva's father. It hadn't gone well. Stumbling over words, ungraceful movements, glares from his new girlfriend. He was only 16 at the time. Somehow the good Doctor had approved of the shy boy. But Minerva! She hadn't changed at all in the years he missed. Arrogant, annoying, intelligent….

"No." He said softly to himself. Tonight wasn't about Minerva. It was about making Tara feel welcome. She was so different from Minerva. So warm. Careful. Graceful, even if she claimed being so clumsily as having flooded all 3 stories of her house when she was a young girl.

Looking into the mirror Artemis straightened his sleeve with a slight tug, smoothed his raven hair with one hand and sigh, then checked his overall appearance. He wasn't vain. He just cared about how he looked. More than some.

With a shudder Artemis recalled a terrible experience as a teenage when he had to dress like a normal juvenile. Baggy pants, stupid thin t-shirt, floppy clown-like shoes and a "hoodie", ugly sweat shirt with a hood, hence the ridicules name. Not something very sensible. But a small price to pay for fine art. Still, he didn't like to dress sown very often. Minerva had rarely gotten him out of the suits and into jean, though he did humor her once or twice. Tara never tried, saying he looked "dashing" in the usual black, that many women wish for such a clean-cut man. She even bought him a tie, green with gold silk.

He stared into his eyes. He was getting in deep. Really deep. She was buying him clothing (a tie could objectively be called so). In every other thought it was about her, or somehow involved her in it. Sometimes he forgot she was just a business deal, not a close friend. But they were becoming close! She could understand! True, she wasn't as smart as he was, but once he explained she caught on quickly. Now he enjoyed illuminating the empty space in her head, she asked smart questions. And they nearly knew everything friends would know about each other. He had finally been told that her parents were dead, she had a deep love of piano music, and hated fish. He was trusted. And for once, he had a normal, regular friend.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"You're an artist? How… bohemian."

Angeline didn't hate the shy young woman her son presented to her a mere thirty minutes before. So far there had not been any obvious bad qualities. The girl was young, maybe five years under Arty. She was dressed in a quiet way, nothing flashy or done to show. Her personality was evident in a simple black halter dress, a light knit rose-colour jacket that went to the knee, a black headband with faint glitter, and flats made suede in the same colour as the jacket. It brought the impression of a gentle, sweet persona, with a love of classical music and style. The originality showed; a hand-crafted brushed nickel locket, probably made by herself, the way she interrupted Arty, and laughed just a little too loud, marking her as 2nd class. This woman loved her independence.

That worried Angeline. The Fowl women were strong yes, noble, and clever. Tara was all these things. And it was becoming apparent she was strong-minded. Angeline knew her son liked his orders obeyed. Yes he believed in equality of the sexes, but for anyone of a lesser IQ he expected his views and orders to be seen as brilliant, to be abided by. Tara wouldn't do this, you could just tell. Although she was a nice girl, Angeline just didn't see any promise.

If Artemis knew she was evaluating this girl for marriage. Mistress Fowl shuddered at that conversation. Even she feared Arty's cool gazed sometimes.

Still…he would gain a lesson or two from this relationship, if anything.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Tara couldn't tell if Mrs. Fowl liked her. So far she hadn't said or done anything that made her guest think otherwise. Mr. Fowl had been very polite, as had Artemis II. Artemis I asked her questions, told stories, and laughed along with her at "Arty". Angeline remained fairly quiet.

"Yes." Tara replied to Mrs. Fowl's comment.

"What kind of art?"

"A variety, mostly in a classical style influenced by a number of artist. Da Vinci, O'Keefe, Monet, Manet, Leibovitz."

"Annie Leibovitz?" Angeline was confused. "The photographer? Artemis said you paint."

"I do, but her perspective, her use of light and colour I love, and try to emanated in my own works."

"Ah." Mrs. Fowl said politely. "Yes."

"Do you favour any particular photo?" Artemis I asked.

"The Chrysler Building photograph, the one with the dancer on the gargoyle, taken in 1991."

Artemis noted his son's own raised eyebrows, as his were too, and he proceeded with his questions.

"I've seen the piece. I believe it was inspired by another photographer?"

"Margaret Bourke-White. She was Leibovitz's idol. It was Bourke-White's 1934 photo of herself on one of the gargoyles that inspired Annie's own 1991 picture. Personally I find the photo of Leibovitz taking the final shot more human. It has a certain bravery and aura to it."

"Very interesting." Mr. Fowl smiled. "I can see why Artemis talks of you so often. You have a lot in common."

Tara blushed. "Thank you. I think." She cast Artemis a teasing grin, showing she was only kidding. "I enjoy Artemis's company. He is quite enthusiastic about thing most find dull things I love discussing. "

She raised her eyes to his and cocked her head. A faint smile played across her lips. He smiled back, causing them to both turned a little pink. The two elder Fowl also seated at the table noticed this, exchanged a glance and share a smile of their own. Oh, to be young again!

Angeline broke the silence. "Arty told us you lived in America for a while."

Tara snapped out of it. "In New York, with my mother."

_Separated parents? _"Amazing, you do not have an accent. How old were you when you moved to Ireland?"

"Nearly 7. My sister we reluctant to leave; she loves America. We go back every so often so she can see her boyfriend. I love the city, but it's not the Green Isles. There's too much smoke in New York."

"You and you sister should come with us next month to Maine for the charity marathon Timmy is running in." Angeline invited warmly.

"Thank you! That's very kind. You run, Master Fowl?"

"Indeed. Ever since I got my prosthetic. I thought I ought to participate more in charity events and physical activities. I'm a changed man because of this." He nodded to the stiff leg he had stretched out. Artemis hadn't told Tara the story, but Sophia knew it. Russian Mafia.

"That is very noble, that you do it for charity." She shook her red tresses. I know of few who would go on to do so much after such an incident like yours. You are a great role model, Master Fowl."

"Thank you, Tara." He nodded kindly. "I like to think that. And you may call me Artemis. Or Timmy." His eyes twinkled.

The meal continued nicely with small take and the usual questions. Not prying questions. Questions about home, family et cetera. She tried her best to answer with giving away little as possible, but it was hard. And they were so nice. She had expected more of a challenge. More hoops to jump through. But they were being relatively easy. Did they trust Artemis so much, or did were they usually so uninvolved in his personal affairs?

When she glanced at Artemis she it confused him as well. Maybe not. Brown furrowed, he took a sip of his wine, and grasped her cold hand, smiling at the girl gently. Her returning smile was just as sincere.

"Tell her about your newest book, Arty." Angeline encouraged. Artemis was faintly annoyed, but complied describing the latest book on quantum physics, co-authored by Stephen Hawking's last protégé. Though no one at the table save Artemis himself understood quantum physics there was rapt attention.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"I'm sorry." He said mournfully.

"For what?" Tara asked surprised. He hadn't done anything during dinner…that she knew of.

"For that. I know meeting my parents must be…difficult. It always is, no matter who's parents it is, and I think you handled it well, but still…it's the worst date to have, right."

"No." She was frowning. "I liked it. They're really nice people, Artemis, obviously they adore you. I enjoyed it."

He chuckled, ducking his head.

"Really." She insisted. "I felt welcome."

"So it wasn't torture?"

"No." She giggled.

"So had…_fun_?"

"Yes, I did. They're great. It was great. Save the fish.

"I'm sorry about that. " He grinned. "It won't happen again."

She shrugged. "No big deal. I filled up on salad. We could do it again, I need to lose weight." She joked.

"No you don't." Artemis protested softly. "You're perfect."

Tara smiled dreamily, and squeezed his hand. He looked at her, seemingly calculating something. After some more silence, Tara looked over to see him staring at her. She tilted her head, causing the auburn locks to slide on to his leather jacket seeing as they were sitting next to each other. "What?"

"Could I make it up to you?" He asked quickly, before he repeated his earlier comment. He was going to ask this anyways, might as well be now.

"There's nothing to make up!"

Artemis made a "_pifh"_ sound. She glared.

"Even so. I'd like to."

She remained silent, but her gaze softened.

"Please Tara."

"How?"

Surely he didn't mean..._that_.

"I want it to be a surprise." Seeing her worried look and bitten lip he hastily said. "Nothing bad or too…ah, personal, Tara."

Did she really think so little of him?

The faint blush of pink on his usually pale cheeks made her smile again. However, she was sure her own face was heating up as well.

"Thank you. I think."

"So you will?"

"Mmmm." Was the only reply. Hopefully it meant "Mmmm…yes." She glanced down at her watch, then groaned. "I was suppose to be home 20 minutes ago! Sarah will be so mad! I'm sorry, I've gotta go."

"That's fine. Do you need a ride?"

"No, no…no. I'll catch a bus, or the metro."

"Nonsense. It will be no problem. Let me take you." He said impatiently.

_A lie. I need a lie. Come on, give me a lie. _Frantically she pried into her bank and cashed a convincing one.

"I don't think that's best. Sara-" She hesitated for effect. "Sarah has problems meeting new people…I don't think right now…we're getting past that but…" She glance up, apologetic. "Normally I would but at night, in the dark…" She left the unfinished sentence hanging in the air, leaving the rest up to the imagination.

"Right." Artemis said awkwardly.

"If it makes you feel better, you can walk me to the metro?"

He agreed. They walked without sound. Artemis was considering how his surprise was to be presented. It was kind of hard to wrap. Tara wondered what he was planning. When they reached the station she turned to him and open her mouth, then closed it opting to give him a kiss on the cheek instead.

"Bye, Artemis."

For someone with a Ph.D in kineseology, actions truly did speak louder than words. But pairing her together, you get one very confused Artemis.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Angeline stared out the limo window. Her Timmy held her hand stroking it with his thumb.

The last 10 years had been marvelous, like they were before the Fowl name took him over. Like when they first married. When Artemis I left his family for Russia, on the _Fowl Star_, his cola ship, Angeline had been considering a separation. It was one thing neither her son nor husband knew, but she had. When he came home, his mind and body renewed, thing were brighter. She thought it wouldn't last. So far, it had. And she wasn't planning on letting go of the peace.

Then when they discuss Arty's future, Angeline's peace was threatened. But for Arty, she'd do anything. Even break the tranquility. When he requested searching on his own, she almost cried out. But she remained silent.

Tara wasn't the little gold digger slut Angeline imagined. She was sweet. Perfect for Arty. She could be a Fowl. She _would_ be a Fowl.

Arty was obviously very fond of her. It really didn't require more than his happiness, and her cooperation. It was harsh, but it was the truth. She was lucky; she and Timmy were in love. But Tara…she like Arty, but was enough. Angeline didn't want to leave her place empty, nor did she want this nice girl and her son in an unhappy marriage. _People do foolish thing when they're young._

Only time would give her the answer. If she had too, she was willing to be the future-in-law-from-hell if it was in Arty's best interest.

Timmy turned to her. It wasn't until after he was "dead" that she realized she still loved him that much.

"Alright, Ang? You're quiet."

"Yes." She smiled, and moved closer to her husband. Her loving spouse. Timmy. "I'm just thinking about our son."

"And his flame?"

"She's not quite that yet."

"He's pretty smitten."

"Yes."

"Is she?"

Angeline hesitated. "Yes. Very in love."

"And do you approve, Angel?"

"I do. She's a bright girl. Wonderful to Arty."

Timmy smiled, and hugged his wife. Angeline smiled as well, and thanked the maker for bringing her family back.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Angeline isn't really going to be a big part of the plot, she's just here to give some insight into the Fowl's marriage, and to well…be there. We won't see her very much, maybe in another chapter or two, but apart from that, nope. She's a strong woman, and I like her a lot, but this isn't her story. **

**Please review. Any questions, feel free to Review or PM me.**

**-Dania**


	17. Yellow Gelato

**Chapter 17, Yellow Gelato**

**This chapter brings some important world events into light; **

**A) Iraqi War thingy/problems in the middle east**

**B) Rising gas prices,**

**C) And, most importantly, Why everyone hates MJ. (Not That I do)**

**DISCLAIMER: Artemis is the property of EC, though Sophia/Tara/Sasha are, in fact, mine. **

**I hope you like this one, it took a lot of work. One of my faves, though very hard to write.**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Tara leaned back into the comfy leather armchair, sipping the pink beverage. She couldn't sure what she was drinking, but whatever. It was good. Pink coloured, with a tropical flavour. Carbonated. Not bad, for a guy who spends most of his time in a book or behind a computer. He wasn't really the mixed drink type. Still, he made a mean…whatever it is.

It had been a good five days. Relaxing, after she realized he wasn't taking her away to kill her. She worried for a while that he had found their plot, was taking her away to question her, then hide the body. He had just taken her farther than most murders can afford; Italy.

What he really did was take her on a vacation.

Because when she asked to go to Venice, he took it literality.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Five days ago she had met him at a small privet airport just outside Dublin, near Fowl Manor. Sophia brought a dagger, not the diamond one, but a simple steel and brass handled version. It was hidden in the bodice of her pink dress, for the days had gotten warmer lately, enough so that she could wear the girly sundresses Sasha had bought her.

When Artemis appeared, Butler in tow as usual, Tara gave a bright smile.

"Geeze Arty, I was scared to come-" That wasn't a lie. "-Your call was quiet threatening. 'Meet me at ------ Airport at 6:30 A.M. tomorrow. Bring no one and nothing with you' There's a reason why I sometimes let it go to the machine when you call." She teased. Behind the easy smile was an undeniable fear. It took all her emotional strength and focus to keep her voice from cracking.

Artemis gave his usual cool baring of the teeth and gave her a quick hug. He didn't like being so cold, but he need to if he wanted to give her the surprise. The look on her face alone would be more then enough to brighten his day, which had already been off to a bad start with a call from the manager at Fowl Industries demanding to know why he was taking the week off. It had been tempting to fire the man but he had decided to wait until after he got back, for it would nag his mind all week if he sacked the fool now.

"Hello Tara." He turned to Butler. The manservant handed him a black leather messenger bag.

_Is that a gun? _Tara wondered. _Is he going to finish me off right now, right here?_

He surprised her and passed it on, into her hands.

"Wha-"

"I hope everything fits." It was taking a lot to keep a straight face.

Tara gasped when she opened the bag. Clothing, make-up, swimsuits. All in her sizes, her colours! For her. Obviously if he was buying her things he didn't mean to kill her. It would be a waste of money. "Are we going somewhere?"

"Yes." He grinned. This time it reached his eye. Artemis was honestly happy she was surprised. "You don't mind practicing your Italian, do you?"

"_Venice?!"_ She shrieked. "_La __citta__su__acqua__? Venice?_ Thank you Artemis!"

"You're welcome." He said, very amused.

"_E __perche_?"

"It's an apology. For the dinner with my parents."

"I had fun!" She protested.

"Well then, if you did…"

"But if you already went to the trouble of planning it, we should go." Tara revised hastily. "We should definitely go!"

"We could just stay here. And…hang out." Artemis said, smirking suggestively. The big doe eyes she gave made him sigh theatrically. "Fine. I'll suffer through it somehow."

"You're coming with me, right?"

He murmured. "Someone needs to be responsible." Then in a louder voice: "Of course. Think of it as an extra-long date. I'm your personal servant for five days."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

When they arrived on the airstrip Artemis explained that they weren't in Venice.

"Not exactly." He said. "We're only five k out, still on the mainland. It's hard to land a jet on the river, you see."

After driving a few kilometers the group arrived on the shores. A ferryboat waited for them. Tara eyed the three bags Butler carried for his charge. He kindly offered to take her own but she politely declined. Artemis's three, plus Butler's own bag and briefcase (which undoubtedly held some kind of gun, most likely a Sig Saur, the rumored weapon of choice to the bodyguard) didn't weigh much, however were still an unnecessary hassle.

"Why-" She asked unbelievingly as they boarded the ferry. "-do you need _three _bags? I'm the girl and I don't even require three (_three!) _bags for a five-day trip."

Artemis spoke a few words to the ferryman, then turned back to her.

"You didn't pack yourself. I'll bet if you did you'd have _four_ bags and a carry-on. My bodyguard is trained to pack light."

"_Butler_ packed my stuff?" The thought of the huge manservant lovingly folding the tank tops and jeans was an odd mental image. Not to mention humorous

"No. Juliet did." He said impatiently. Not that she knew who Juliet was. Hopefully it made her jealous. But she simply nodded.

"So what are the bags for?"

"One holds my laptop, one contains my clothing, and the final one is for the souvenirs. I plan on getting quiet a few."

Tara giggled at this, as the idea that he would be buying so much to fill that big case was also funny He just didn't come on as the "Oh-I-just-_had_-to-get-it!" kind of guy.

"Look." He said suddenly. Tara spun around to face…

"_Citta__su__Acqua_." She breathed. Never once had she been here. They'd never had any jobs here. Even if she couldn't see much, it was still beautiful.

From the ferry they loaded on to a gondola. Tara repeatedly got whiplash from straining her neck to look at all the beauty. Artemis chuckled. "Careful, _Cara,_ you don't want to be hospitalized on our first day, do you?"

All she could do was shake her head.

"Having fun?"

"Si." Was all she murmured in awe. "Benissimo. Lovely. Grazie."

It wasn't until they reached the hotel when she finally snapped out of it. Temporarily, though she could now speak in full sentences. They stepped into the luxurious salotto of the hotel when it hit her. They were in a hotel. They were staying over night. What if…

"Artemis," She asked softly. "How many rooms did you get?"

"Two. Why?"

Her heart sank. One was for Butler, of course. So she and Artemis would be sharing a room. They'd only been going out for a short time, did he really expect her to…maybe they had separate beds?

"Just wondering."

"Oh." Realization came over his features. He frowned. "Tara, I said it wouldn't be that…close. One suite is all your own."

_Suite?_

"Where is Butler staying?" Surely Artemis wouldn't sand the poor man to a cheap, crappier place in the slums.

"Mine. It's a two bedroom. And adjoining to yours, so I can still keep in touch. I hope you don't mind." He glanced at her, more than a little nervous. Would she care?

"Not at all." A weight off his mind.

The man at the desk gave them the key cards and the poor boy in the maroon outfit asked politely for their _saccas_while quaking with fear as he approached Butler. The man glare at him but gave the young bellhop all the bags, save his own. He led them up to the 7th floor, to the excusive private suites. The young man was maybe a year or two younger than Miss. Gavin.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Apparently these people were high-profile rich, for the hotel's cheapest rooms were one-third the price of the suites on the seventh story. Only the richest tourist stayed in the Ivy and Viaggio Oceanico. Perhaps if he was just polite enough…he had heard stories of bellboys getting hundreds of lire for just a sincere smile. Others talked of getting much more from keeping certain residents company. Very, very close company. The bellboy glanced at the young woman. She didn't look lonely. Then again, they had ordered separate suites. Maybe one was for the big signore. But he was just a valet, why would anyone spend so much on a servant.

"Which room would you like me to put the bags in, _signore?_" The boy asked respectfully inclining his head to the pale young man across from him. The man glanced at the redhead, presumably his wife. Or lover. Or even, mistress. Sometimes they had very recognized gentlemen here, (once ever the Doge himself!) and more often then not they pretty young female the escorted wasn't their wife.

The two residents seemed to share a silent communication for a brief moment, where she shrugged.

"The Ivy suite." He commanded, then spoke to the woman in English, a word or too the bellboy, named unfortuantly Raoul. "Want" "Show" "Room" "First". The woman smiled, and just squeezed the rich man's hand. Neither of them wore rings. Scratch marriage off the list. But they were way too close to just be…

Raoul opened the to the Ivy, and the woman gasped. With good reason. This suite was Raoul's favorite; he liked it much better than the Viaggio Oceanico, or the Ciliegia, or even the Foresta suites.

The room was a light yellow, with white antique furniture, comfortable flora chair-and-loveseat set, a chandelier with polished crystals, topiary plants of ivy, even a balcony looking out on to the canal with a walk leading to the private pool. In the next room there was a grand four-poster bed with sheer while curtains and plump feather pillows.

It was the best way to stay in Italy.

"There is a full bar and kitchenette, Signora, along with an assortment of beverages and snacks. If you need anything, anything at all feel free to call the front desk and it shall be brought to you immediately, regardless of time. Breakfast can be served to you on the balcony, or in bed, as can any other meal. We hope you enjoy your stay. Ciao."

He bowed out but not before casting a wary glance at the huge manservant. Before he could exit the room Tara called out "Is there a stereo anywhere in here?"

The bellhop backtracked to reply. "Si, signora, one in the bedroom, bathroom and parlor." Then scrammed.

Artemis turned to face her. "Why do you need a stereo?"

"I like listening to my music outside of my headphones. Makes it easier to lip sync to MJ that way. People will still look at you as if you're crazy, but at the very least they can understand you." She shrugged.

"You like Michael Jackson?" He asked in disbelief. Pop didn't really seem her cup of tea, and even if he had to guess the "King of Pop" wouldn't be on the list.

"Among other things. My musical taste is very widespread. Anything from the Beatles, U2, Debussy, Opera, Shakira, Country, some heavy metal, or Andrew Lloyd Webber's masterpieces."

"Don't tell me." The young millionaire groaned. "'Thriller'?"

"No." She grinned. "'Beat It'. 2008 version with Fergie. And 'The Girl is Mine' with will.i.am. I favoured the remixed stuff until I saw 'Thriller' and began listening to the older things. Pity." She sighed. "He was quiet good-looking before the surgeries."

"Mmm."

"Hey Arty, have you ever lip synced?"

Luckily Butler intervened before Artemis could make some really snide comment. "Artemis, we should unpack."

His charge got the hint, and left his girlfriend to unpack. And to listen to her music, however disgusting it may be.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The rest of the day was spent eating pizza and gelatos, riding gondolas about the river passageways, and taking a tour of the old Basilica St. Marco, then a trip to Piazza St. Marco, finally ending with swimming in the pool, on the roof of the hotel.

Butler sat in a chase lounge while the couple swam, reading a novel. The manservant kept looking up, annoyed, for Tara kept laughing. Artemis had told her that the book was most likely a romance, contrary to the cover that read _"Remembering Carlos_", presumably after the famous marine sniper. Tara got out of the pool once or twice to confirm this by reading over the bodyguard's shoulder.

On the second day the morning started with coffee on the balcony, then sun bathing by the pool. Artemis was slightly impatient, wanting to take her to see the sights.

"_Avanti_ Tara. I want to see the lions before it starts raining."

"Artemis, it's a vacation. Relax."

"You're going to burn soon." He remarked, then quickly revised it at her scathing glance. "It's not that I don't like seeing you in a two piece, you're quiet stunning-"

"_Vaffanculo__."_ She cut him off, smiling. "_Pazienza_, Arty. The Italian sun is out more often than the Irish one. I need a tan."

"_Va__Bene_." Artemis said, huffy and defeated.

"Ah, Artemis. Relax. You need it." She cooed. "Besides, it's not every day I can stare at you half-naked and angry. "

"I'm not angry!" He protested. His unofficial girlfriend smirked behind her Gucci large-frame sunglasses, glad to be able to flirt for once in her life.

About noon they left to see the city. At St. Mark's Square they stopped at a café for coffee and to look at the lions. Then to the Doge's palace, and another gondola ride.

"What do you think so far?"

"Hmm?" Tara had stretched herself out and was allowing Artemis to play with her long red locks. He was twirling them around in his fingers, separating the gorgeous strands.

"What do you think of Venice?"

Tara sat for a moment, thinking. "I think Liz Gilbert is wrong. She says it's dark, gloomy, depressing…I'll admit, sometimes the place seems a little sad. But it's beautiful, in the old way. And peaceful. No cars, or mopeds. I like it. Thank you." She shifted to look up at him. "This is really sweet of you Artemis."

"No problem." Her casual phrases were finally catching. "I'm glade you enjoyed it." He gave a dramatic sigh. "I'll just have to deal with being your personal servant for another three or so days."

"Oh the horror! You poor thing. I'll have to go easy on you, I suppose."

"Please don't." He murmured in her ear. The shiver he got in response caused him to smirk. He still had it.

Artemis pulled her closer and looked around the ally. Three years ago he had been here, maybe in this exact spot. Three years ago Minerva had broken it off with him, after two and a half years of a tough relationship. That four-month period of grief and mourning had brought even Holly to the surface. Gods, he was a monster that day…

As the memory ensued, the young man closed his eyes, burying face into Tara's auburn tresses, doing his best to hold back the fear.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"_I CAN'T TAKE THIS!'' Minerva screamed. Artemis looked up from his papers, brows furrowed. What was she crying about now? He sighed and got up to investigate. It had been a rough two years, with both of their stubbornness, and competitiveness. His fiancé often acted immature, though he put up with it. The last three months had been hell, and with their wedding right around the corner._

"_Minerva?" He called, concerned. The aggravated blonde met him in the hall, hair in disarray, suitcase in hand. She was glaring._

_Straight._

_At. _

_Him._

"_What's wrong? Are you hurt? Minerva, answer me!" _

_The woman swung round, rage in her eyes. She was livid. "I'LL TELL YOU WHAT'S WRONG!!!! YOU! YOU'RE KILLING ME! I CAN'T-"_

"_Minerva, calm down. What is wrong?"_

"_You." She spat. "I'm sick of being the second act. I'm sick of waiting. I'm sick of fairies. I'm sick of having to deal with this!" She gestured to the hall around her. "And I'm sick of YOU!" _

"_Tell me what's wrong! Minerva, you can't just walk out, we need to talk about this!" _

"_NO! I am done talking, Artemis! I'm sick of trying to make this work!" _

"_Minerva, what is wrong? Talk to me!"_

_Her only answer was a ring, thrown unceremoniously behind her as she strode down the stairs. _

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_Holly opened the door, leaning in trying to see if he was there. When a lump on the bed moved, she knew he hadn't killed himself. _

_Yet._

_She had already been there two days. After Butler's call she got a visa and came up. Butler's request that she found Minerva and try to talk the girl out of her decision was easily fulfilled. Or the first part was. Nothing could convince the human. So Holly returned. _

_Artemis hadn't left his room, nor had he eaten, nor had he said anything. This worried Butler and Holly, for he usually to any emotional hits in stride. But this mud girl was his fiancée. Holly shuddered at the mere thought of Trouble leaving like that. Still, she' d get on with life. Live for the sake of living._

"_Artemis." She called softly. The lump quivered. "Do you want anything to eat?"_

_A raven head near the top of the bed popped up and shook from side to side. She sighed. "Artemis, you've got to eat something. I may not be an MD, but seriously. You've got to live. At least eat some lunch with me and Butler. _

"_No." Said a horse voice from the covers. _

"_Artemis-" _

"_Go. Leave me alone." _

"_You've got to-" Holly insisted._

"_No. Leave, Minerva." _

_Stunned, Holly crossed the room to the massive bed in the center. "I'm not Minerva. I'm Holly."_

"_I still love you." Was all he whispered._

"_Artemis!"_

"_LEAVE!!!"_

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_He had fled to the city because he wanted to be away from all that reminded him of her. It had worked, to and extent; he reminded himself more than any city did. _

_It was spring, so there was much rain. Some days it felt as though the city mourned with him. That it was crying along side him. _

_Now he didn't scream out at night, didn't cry for hours, telling her he loved her. Now he cursed her. Now he hated her. If he never saw her again in this life it would be too soon._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Tara could barely believe that she had responded in such a way. Or rather, Sophia couldn't believe it. Either way, it was helpful, she did need to act like she…felt that way. Still, a tiny nagging voice in the back of her mind whispered, "_Ah, but it wasn't acting, now was it?"_

_He's handsome. Desirable. Hot. Sexy. Take your pick. Why wouldn't I respond?_

"_Because you feel more than you should. You're falling in love with him. And you're scared." _

_Of what, exactly? _She scoffed.

"_That you like him. A lot. And that he might truly like you back. Artemis Fowl. Tsk. What would your family say? What if he doesn't feel the same?"_

_In case you forgot, I have no family to reject him. And I don't care if he likes me or not, I just need his trust, not his love._

"_Have you forgotten dearest Sasha? And what if you were to have his love? Would you keep it? Or destroy it, before you expressed similar feelings?"_

_Sasha wouldn't accept him! Besides, he doesn't care about me._

"_He is nuzzling you hair. Holding you. What else is love?"_

_First Corinthians. It's popular at weddings." Love is patient, love is kind…" Very cheesy, if you ask me. _

"_He's a nice guy, besides the whole problem that if you ever told him the truth, he'd kill you in ten seconds flat. Aside from that sweet, kind. Intelligent. Understanding of you. You perfect match."_

_This conversation is over! _Sophia snapped angrily. It recoiled, only reminding her of the duty to herself before going completely silent.

_Maybe in another life._

At their next stop while Artemis sat messing with the digital camera Tara went to buy gelato. When Artemis took a huge bit out of the yellow treat she had brought only to gag in disgust from the pure sourness of the lemon flavour he chased her around the fountain. They both ended up soaking, for Tara had pushed him into the water, and he had pulled her in with him. Butler stood aside, grimacing.

But he was happy. Artemis rarely had any fun, not like most his age did. It was good for him, Butler decided. Even if she was a little unorthodox.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The morning after found Tara on her balcony, eating pastries and sipping _caffe_. Artemis snuck up behind while she finished the business section of the newspaper. He snatched it from her and looked at the headlines, frowning.

"I know." Tara sighed. "Why must they price it so high? Surely the war isn't losing us that much oil from the Middle East. Those stupid American oil companies."

Artemis glanced up, raising a brow. "So you weren't just reading the comics?" He teased.

She hit him lightly on the arm. "What do you think?"

His frown deepened. "I think Fowl Industries needs to focus on Alternative Energy more."

Tara nodded in agreement.

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**It's long, 3,500 words, but well worth it. New:**

**I'm giving you an agreement; I get 5 reviews, you get your chapter 18, which is already written, just not typed. 5 really isn't that much to ask for, if I have 61 views.**

**Does anyone know the names of some British/Irish cleaning supply brands? Could I get a list w/ what they supposedly do?**

**Even if I get 5 reviews, it might take a while. I'm going away week after next (D.C., if you see me say hi!), so it might be a while before 18 & 19 are posted. Since they're shorter, easy chapter, I'll take 'em out with one blow. I do however, plan to post before I leave.**

**Any questions about word translation (i.e., the Italian phrases), just ask**

**Read and Review, Please!!!!**

**-Dania**


	18. Expressing oneself

**Chapter 18, Expressing oneself**

Disclaimer: Artemis Fowl isn't mine.

Yup, it's short. But I like it. R&R

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Butler sat at one of the computers in the reference room (Technically a second library, with it's own computer data base, and there was nothing but encyclopedia and whatnot-a dull room indeed, though useful in a time of Google/Wikipedia back up) taking a peek at the latest Chrissy Love romance novel. He had been about to switch to Barbara Starr's home page when Artemis entered. Butler had been tapping his finger impatiently in rhythm with the whirring of the machines, but Artemis quickly put a stop to that.

"Stop that." The young man snapped, scowling darkly. Butler looked up in mild surprise and minimized the screen. His employer wasn't always so temperamental, at least, not lately. Something troubling him? That girl maybe? He had spent a lot of time with her, maybe she was wearing on his nerves. Master Artemis hadn't discussed it, so Butler assumed that it was becoming a really stressful event, having to go out with that Tanya, or whatever her name was.

"Something bothering you, Artemis?"

"No." He snapped again as he stomped through the shelves of thick, dusty tomes. His footfalls slammed down onto the hardwood, obviously unconsciously. Butler heard the shifting of a heavy object, most likely a book, then a moment of silence. After a few moments there was a heavy thud after Artemis apparently tossed the volume on to the table, something not in his nature, he usually lovingly placed them back in their proper place.

Counting to 25, the manservant prepared for a verbal lashing as he asked. "I wouldn't press the matter, except I believe I may be able to help."

Butler's black eyes followed his charge's rampage of the reference room. Artemis finally found the atlas he was searching for, pausing to reach for it, then lowering his hand to press his warm forehead to the wood of the shelf above, placing his arm on the edge of the wooden beam to cession his head. A loud sigh emerged.

"Is it the girl?" Butler asked gently. Artemis let out another sigh. A very deep, confused sigh.

"Yes," He finally said, after what seem millennia. "It's Tara."

Ah, that was her name. Tara. Tara…Gavin? Was that right? A fitting name for an Irish girl. What was she doing, hurting Artemis? Butler knew a bit about relationships, having read so many books based on the subject. But that wasn't the plan. He wasn't supposed to like her. However, Artemis had been looking a little…befuddled lately. Maybe he…

"She's…it…"

Artemis was rarely at a loss for explanatory adjectives. What was wrong?

"I'm lost in how to… attract her? How to give any sign that I…" He stopped dragging his breath out in an impatient huff. Minerva had always been the one to make first moves, not he. "She's becoming more of a friend than a love interest, or so in her eyes. I would like a deeper relationship-"

Wait----did Artemis just say he wanted a…

"-It's hard for me to make any intentions apparent. She's brave. I really… admire her."

Butler was stunned. It wasn't like his employer to make a simple business transaction personal. This was planned to be simple acting, a pose for his parents, not to become emotionally involved literately. Now Artemis was worrying about how too express his feeling toward her. Didn't he remember? When did he decide he actually liked her? Did he expect Butler to know? They had been friends for Artemis's entire life, but it wasn't as though Butler could read his charge's mind!

"Butler?" Artemis called. Domivio stood, crossing to the 5th row, where he found the boy.

"Artemis. Just being friends for a while is okay. Give it time. Get to know her better. She'll come to you when she's ready."

Artemis turned. The deep blue and hazel eyes that met Butler's were wide. He looked al most unsure, something Artemis Fowl _never _was.

"Will that be soon?" He asked quietly.

"Has she let you see her apartment?"

"Ah, no." The boy gulped. "Is that bad?"

"Wait a while." The bodyguard instructed. "When she does, be ready. In the mean time, do something meaningful, give her some gift." Butler grinned. "Won't Mrs. Fowl be pleased."

Artemis grimaced. Tara was polite enough, and her manners were classic and out spoken, but the young woman was almost too young for Mrs. Fowl's liking. It was doubtful she would be as blind to Tara's faults as he pretended to be. He had gotten his paranoia of habits such as nail biting, finger tapping, et cetera from his mother. But Angeline had liked Tara. After he had gotten home from dropping Tara off at the metro, after that kiss, he raced up the stairs to find his mother.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_Angeline sat at the mirror, taking off her earrings. A knock on the door startled her, causing her to drop the amethyst earring. Sighing she bent down to find it._

"_Come in." She called to the general direction of the door. Her mirror reflected her son's silhouette in the threshold. _

"_Arty, darling." She smiled. The one bright spot in her day. "Come in." _

_The hesitant young man approached the armchair beside the bed. _

"_No, no. Come here, sit by me." She patted the space on the bench before the table beside her. She had given little time or affection to Artemis when he was a child, partly because she was always rushing about, partly because it became apparent he didn't want any, and partly because he looked too much like Timmy. In the years of Timmy's disappearance, Angeline could barely stand to look at her son. And Artemis knew it. He stayed way, and when he was around he did his best to hide his eyes. Hats, glasses, closed eyes due to "headaches". Anything. _

_He sat down by her, and she put her arms around her grown-up son, placing her head on his shoulder. "Now, what did you come here to talk to me about?"_

"_Did you like her?" _

_Angeline thought for a moment. "Yes." She finally said. "I quiet enjoyed her. She's beauty, and so smart. You made a good choice Arty."_

"_She's no Minerva." He agreed softly. Angeline frowned. _

"_Yes. She's not. She's better. That French girl was too ambitious."_

_He laughed. "Is there such a thing?"_

"_There is. If you let your ambition surpass your family, your friends. Your life." _

_All the Fowls had done this. Timmy had done this. He was one of the few that were pulled back. Greed overtook them. Sometimes Angeline wonder what she was thinking, marrying a Fowl. Having a Fowl. Luckily, both her son and husband had come back to her_

"_I'm glade you like her, Mother." _

_Angeline waved her hand. "Psh. It doesn't matter if I like her. So long as _you_ love her." _

"_Good." Artemis sighed. "I have some formulas I need to get working on."_

_Angeline smiled sadly. He was always working. Hopeful it wouldn't be like this when he married. When he had a family. She wondered if Arty knew his life couldn't be just work when, or if, he started a life with another person. "Alright, Arty. Thank you for visiting me. Good night dear." She gave his a kissed, a watched as he reluctantly left._

_Closing her eyes, she recalled the friendly little toddler with big blue eyes, jet hair, and a contented smile he son had once been. Things had been simpler then._

Artemis decided he needed to visit his mother more often.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Thank you, Butler." He said aloud, straightening his jacket sleeve. "I shall leave you to your romance novel"

"Artemis." Butler called after him. _Little punk._

"Yes, Butler?" Artemis turned back, an odd look on his pale face. He bit his bottom lip.

"You're lucky I was hired to protect you." Was all the manservant growled.

"Indeed." Artemis smirked, then fled. Something that sounded electronic hit the door behind him with a "**BAM".**

At the very least, he had something to occupy his time while he waited for her emotions to catch up to his own. It would be hell for his bodyguard.

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Well, that's a wrap. For this week. The call is for **5 reviews**, but they have to be from **different people** this time. That means **AssortedJellyBeans, Lisa, FeatherDeath, Belle07**, and whomever else has reviewed (I'm writing this at 3 reviews total, I'll need another two before I'll posted this) **can** review, but they won't count. Sorry guys. I love you anyway, you rock!!! As does **Mrs. Jazzy Hale, Avante, AliAlmighty, M y r k e d K o h l, fanXforever, katana777.** I love all of your reviews, and you names.

Love,

**-Dania**


	19. I Don't

** Chapter 19, _I Don't_**

**Disclaimer: Artemis Fowl isn't mine.**

**Reviews rock. Really, they do. **

**I'm being so nice. Really. I felt guilty, cause I'm leaving soon, so I gave you a double post in one night. **_**Without my five reviews.**_** See how kind I am?**

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Sophia tossed her purse on to the bar then sank into the couch, sighing in the process. The opera was lovely, just not always her cup of tea. She preferred Carmen, not this French soprano's twittering voice. As a fan of musicals (Andrew Lloyd Webber, to be exact), opera was almost to extreme.

This date had been the most difficult. Artemis had over dinner pepper her with question about everything from family, music, places she'd been, people she's known (Not many), her pet peeves, and favorite things (Which had came up with the answer "The Sound of Music" on the spot.) It was nice he was becoming interested in her life (Or rather, lies), but the constant lying was wearing. It was hard to constantly think on her feet. Usual Sophie didn't have to deal with people; she was a thief. It was her occupation. She didn't trick people directly like this. And if she ever had to, she and Sasha practiced the verbal deceivers. So she didn't lie often unless the answer could be revealing. Still, is gets hard to keep one's lies straight after telling so many.

"Sophie?" There pause it took of Sasha to fumble with the light switch was long enough time for Sophia to run but she didn't. Finally there was the soft click of the switch. The soft glow of the bulb illuminated Sasha's face. "Why are you sitting in the dark?"

"I was hoping to fall asleep." Sophia grumbled. "As you ought to be. It's late. Go to bed."

Her sister ignored her, opting instead to settled down in one of the plump armchairs placing a pillow on her lap. She tilted her head, smiling at the faint annoyance playing across her sibling's face. Sophie was gorgeous. The auburn hair framing her face, the pale skin, the bright green eyes with flecks of blue, a certain light that seemed to follow her along with a great aura made her the beautiful sister. Not that Sasha wasn't pretty. Her French-Argentine blend was apparent. She had darker skin, with copper-blondish-brown hair, and baby-blue eyes. The only thing marking her and Sophia as sisters was their faces; similar noses, similar shape of the eyes, the only thing Sophia had recived from their mother. Sometimes Sasha was jealous. Sophie got the looks and the brains.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"_Sasha." Andreaya said disapprovingly. The little girl stuck out her tongue. _

"_Oh Sassy!" The young mother sighed, pulling the tiny girl away from her confused sister. Andreaya knew that once Sophie got over the shock she's clean herself up. Right now her youngest needed to be disciplined. Sassy stomped behind her mother, a glare on her face._

_Andreaya placed her daughter in the "Bad Chair", sitting across from her in the worn floral-print couch. _

"_Why would you do that to your sister?" _

"'_Cause I hates her." Sasha mumbled. _

"_Oh, Sass." Andreaya said. "You don't mean that!"_

"_YES I DO!!! I HATE'S HER!" The girl yelled._

"_Sasha!" Andreaya scolded. "You do not yell inside the house! Stop that. Why would you say such a thing? Your sister loves you."_

"_No she don't. And I don't love her. She's not nice." _

_This confused Andreaya. She was home all day with the girls. Sophia was always nice with her sister, hardly ever saying a harsh word. Even if she did, the apartment was so small, it was almost certain that Andy would hear her. But maybe the girl had figured out a way to muffle her voice. That wouldn't be surprising. She was so much like her father._

"_Why would you say that?" Andreaya asked again, leaning down to Sasha's level. _

_The little girl sniffed. "You like her more. Da loves her more, 'cause she looks like him. Nobody loves me cause I'm not smart and I'm not pretty."_

"_Oh, Sassy! How could you think that?! Of course Daddy and I love you both, equally-"_

"_What's that? Eek-wally?" _

"_The same amount. It means exactly the same.Daddy and I love you both the same; a ton. And you're pretty, just as pretty as Sophie. You look like me. Am I not pretty, Sass?"_

_Sasha looked up at her mother, with her exotic looks, and blue-green eyes. "Yes. You're very pretty."_

"_And so are you. One day, you'll look almost exactly like me."_

"'_Zactly?" Sasha whispered excitedly._

"_Almost. But you'll be you too. As for being smart, you might not be as smart as Soph-"_

_Sasha's heart sank. She wanted to be better that Sophie! _

"_But you're so brave. And stubborn. You can remember things. You have your own gifts. I'll bet Sophie couldn't remember what she had for breakfast."_

"_I bets she can!" _

"_You're on. Hey Soph," Andreaya called into the kitchen._

"_What Mama?"_

"_What did you have for breakfast this morning?"_

_A few moments of silence past before Sophia mournfully admitted, "Sorry Mama, I can't remember."_

_Sasha and Andreaya giggled. "See? I told you."_

"_Okay. You're right."_

_Andreaya gather her daughter up in her arms. "You're very special. And we will always love you, Sassy Cat."_

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"So how was it? Has he kissed you yet? Any moves at all?"

Sophia laughed, partly in sarcasm and partly in amusement. "No. We're still just friends."

"What? You've-" She paused, calculating the number of dates her sibling had been on so far. "Like, 15 dates, and there had been _no kissing?" _

"No. Well, pecks, but not real kissing. It takes time, Sass. In real life you start as friends, not begin making out the moment you know the other person's name. We need trust. If we had known each other for a while…." Sophia trailed off, wondering how exactly life would have been like if she and Artemis had met say, 8 years ago. Before her life went topsy-turvy, before she turned to a mild life of crime. Then she shuddered. Artemis 8 years ago was rumored to be a monster. Cruel, uncaring, and suspected of multiple criminal acts in the Internet underworld, as the geeks who ruled noted similarities. But no one outside of this computer kingdom ever heard of these theories, as they were not proven, nor were they allowed into the public (Artemis like to check up on any silent rumors regarding himself, often banning them from the public eye).

Sasha frowned. "I didn't expect it to take this long."

"Possibly longer. 2 years, maybe, until it's done."

"TWO YEARS?!" Sasha shrieked. Sophia winced. Her sister was a regular banshee.

"These things are delicate. We need to build strong foundations before we add the bricks, darling. Or it all comes crashing down-" She snapped her fingers. "-like that. Besides, Artemis is naturally shy around woman. His last relationship…let's just say it ended pretty…badly. We have to take the time to rebuild his trust in our gender."

Sasha just sat in stunned silence for a while. Though not for the reasons Sophia thought.

"What are you doing?" She finally asked quietly.

"What do you mean? Right now? I'm trying to sleep." Sophia hinted."So, night."

"What are you doing with this? You're taking too long. Getting too close."

"To who?"

"You know who. Him. Tara. Tara's life. Sometimes, it's like you've forgotten _who_ you are. _What_ you are. What your name means. You're Tara all the time."

"How dare you sug-"

"Tara just comes, starts the lust, robs him, and just walks away. She doesn't start a family. She doesn't begin a new life. You are not supposed to get that involved. You take you go." Sasha hissed. "I promised you retirement, not a new life…at least not one with the enemy. "

"I know that Sasha." Sophia said sharply.

"Do you?" Sasha stared hard into her sister's eyes. "I've seen the way you look at him. On the cameras that we hacked. You _love_ him. _Love,_ Sophia. And that's not acceptable. You _know_ that. If this keeps up…you know what you will have to do."

"I don't love him. He's just a job. I know." She ducked her head wearily.

"Sophia, you don't. You're falling in love with the one person you can't have, and you know it. If you don't stop it, you could jeopardize the entire plan. Your feelings could stop the robbery. And it would have to turn into an assassination. "

Sophia head shot up, her hand on Sasha's arm squeezing hard.

"_Never._" Sophia murmured. "We will not murder _anyone_. What happened to your morals, Sasha? Did they die along with your heart?"

"I-" She started, but Sophia turned away. Sasha bit her lip. _Oh dear. _A few more seconds of silence, then Sasha spoke, proving her heart still lived.

"If…if you would want that- a life with someone-I'd let you, Soph. You've giving up so much for me, it would be cruel…" Her voice trembled. "If that's what you want….to start over as Tara then I won't stop you."

Sophie looked up. "No, Sass, I don't. I don't love him."

A sad smile tugged at her sister's lips. "Right."

"I don-" But it was no use. Sophia sighed.

Sasha stood quickly, making Sophie a little dizzy. She felt a tad light-headed.

"Night."

But Sophia pulled her down to the couch and into a hug before she could scamper to the foyer.

"Sassy, do you think I would just up on leave you to marry some millionaire who, might I add, is a bit of a jerk without inviting you to the wedding?" She teased.

"You might." Sasha mumbled.

"Do you really think so little of me?" Sophie asked in mock indignation.

"You'd forget the date of the wedding, not to mention the guest list."

"Silly girl. Don't worry so much. It won't be so bad. I'll get us out of the city for a while, then we'll come home after the searching stops. Promise. Then life will return to normal. No more thief work. No more Artemis Fowl. We can even fake my death if it makes you happy. I think we still know that guy in the morgue. " She reassured her sister, referring to the end of the scheme.

They sat for a while longer, Sophia cradling her sister. As the clock stroked two she sent Sasha off to bed with a cup of raspberry tea and a kiss on the cheek.

Then she stayed up most of the night perfecting the plan. Sasha would stay safe.

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**I can't say I'm happy with you. It's March 11, and I have only FOUR REVIEWS!!!! You losers. Seriously**

**Guys. It's been over a week. I'm disappointed. Chapter 18 isn't even posted yet as I'm writing this.**

**FanXforever, I'd have thought you, of all people would have made some comment. But no. So this isn't being posted before I leave cause nobody's reviewing.**

**I expect 7 by time I get back, or no chapter for you. I'll be back on the 23**

_-Dania_


	20. Events With Painful Shoes

**What the Voices Say**

**Chapter 20, Painful Shoes**

**Well, I'm back!! And I missed this so much. Sorry for the long wait, I was stuck on Hp fan fiction. Some of the HG/TR jr. stuff rocks. Anyhow, here you go.**

**DISCLAIMER: Arty isn't mine, sadly. But god knows what I would do with him if he was.**

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"I love Gerard Butler." Tara announced. Butler, sitting in the front of the limo, glanced up hearing his name, then rolled his eyes. _Women_. Artemis, sensing his bodyguard's annoyance, politely it the button activating the divider. The bodyguard silently thanked him. Miss. Gavin wasn't the twit Minerva acted, but listening to celebrity worship wasn't part of his paycheck.

"Would you like to meet him?"

"Maybe some other time. Sarah is expecting me." Tara tilted her head, holding it with her left hand as she peered out the tinted windows. "Is Butler in any way related?"

"To who?" Artemis asked, distracted.

"Gerry."

"Not that I know of, though it's possible. Doubtful, but possible." He shrugged. There was a slim chance, however much the actor and Artemis's own manservant resembled one another, it was unlikely.

"That would be cool." Tara was a little disappointed, whether by Artemis's reaction or the answer he didn't know.

Artemis just shrugged. The premiere had been very crowded, swarming with celebrity worshipers and the idols themselves, not that he had been impressed. Tara had been awed, and he had gotten his fun out of teasing her about it. The movie itself hadn't been too terrible, the acting fairly reasonable, though the dialog a little dry, and the props very unconvincing to Artemis's eye. Still, his girlfriend had enjoyed it. Why he couldn't imagine, but he was happy if she was.

"Anything interesting happen in the Gavin household?" He asked hoping to turn the subject on to something he was curious about. She gave him so little information about her family life, not that he had made any attempt to disclose his own. The Fowl's relationship, though better after Artemis Sr.'s return, was still strained as they tried to become a closer family. Angeline's efforts, while sweet and concentrated, were in vain. It wasn't the Fowl way. Irregular. Still, his mother had closed a few holes. Not enough to stop the inevitable dam from collapsing, sadly.

"Not really. Sarah and I are discussing moving. Or rather, one of us moving out." Tara grimaced. "Sar wants her own place, and I need more studio. I knew it would happen one day, that she'd want a house of her own, but I feel it would be easier for both of us if she stayed. Getting use to a new neighborhood, a new community…that just wouldn't be good for her right now. So I'm thinking I'll get myself out. The only thing is-" She gave a deep shudder. "-the real estate market these days. Maybe I could rent, or find a roommate-"

"You could move in with me," Artemis said abruptly. His eyes widened, unable to believe his own offer. _Where did that come from? _They'd only been going out for four months. Gods, it was really bold move. He had waited _years_ before offering the Minerva move into Fowl Manor, and even then they had both agreed to just get a Dublin penthouse, rather than deal with his parents. And he was rarely there anyhow.

"Artemis-" Tara shook her head, chucking. "That's nice of you, but your parents…and I'm sure there's no way…I mean, it's…" She faltered, looking out the window once more. "Could you?"

Still dazed at his own bravery, he nodded. "My parent's wouldn't mind… I mean, if we shared a room…"

"No." Tara said quickly. "No. I wasn't thinking that at all."

"Neither was I. You could have an entire suite to yourself. "

"Seriously?" the young woman asked weakly. "You…I don't want to impose, but I really…Arty, if it's any trouble…"

"It would be a pleasure. And I want to." Artemis said firmly. "You could have huge studio, a Jacuzzi, a water bed, and Michael Jackson shrine if you wanted to. I'd love to have you live with me. I mean, technically, not with me, just in the same-"

He was babbling, and Tara decided to save him from further embarrassment, silencing him with a quick peck on the check. _Damn that woman._

"It would be temporary." She warned. "5 months, tops."

"_I hope not." _He would miss her. And the next step after this was that they sleep together, she marries him, or both.

"Why don't you discuss it with Sarah?" He suggested. "Call me tomorrow, I'll be at the office. We can have you moved in by Tuesday."

"Are you positive your parents won't mind?" It wouldn't help her if the Fowl's were upset in any of her moves. Having them on her side throughout the entire affair would just be ever the more helpful.

"Only if we share a room." He assured her. They hadn't even minded when Minerva had "Moved in" with him, since they assumed that relationship would have ended in better terms.

Tara hesitated, then agreed. "If Sarah says she's okay with it. I don't see how she can't agree, I mean, I'll still be close. Right?"

"We're only a few kilometers out. Within walking distance of a metro station."

"Great, I'm a bad driver. I wouldn't want to-"

Before she could finish the car came to a halt in front of the apartment building.

"Do you want me to escort you up?"

"No, thanks. I think I can manage in these." She gestured to the heels. They were bronze tie-up stilettos, to match her Greecian-style empire waist gown. It was interesting, cream colour darkening to a sky blue till it ended just above her knee. The shoes had been difficult to maneuver in, causing her to cling to Artemis's arm for part of the night, trying to keep her balance. Not that he minded. Besides, it was amusing. And she did look spectacular. He needed to take her to formal events more often. There was that Fowl Industries Gala in a few months…

"Are you sure?" He asked, concerned.

"I'll take the elevator." She sighed. "And I was so looking forward to sprinting up the stairway. Ah, well." With another kiss she exited the limo, waving as it slid from the curb. When it was out of sight she flipped open her cell and hit the speed dial.

"Can you be any more charming?" Sasha demanded, without any greeting. "Nearly gagged."

Sophia started off down the street in an even, steady stride. "I wasn't the one who picked the assignment. Nor was I the one who was forced into eavesdropping on my elder sister thru lip reading via TV because someone feared her eventual blundering. Give me a little credit, Sass."

Sasha only growled something unintelligible.

"The shoe thing worked. He was smitten. Where did you get them? I want a pair in silver." She glanced in a store window, admiring her refection, modeling the footwear in the dark glass.

"I forget." Sasha answered lazily. "Anyhow, did it work?"

"Yeah, I'm calling him tomorrow at the office."

"Do his parents care? When do you move in?"

"No, they won't, unless we share a room. And before you ask, no. I'm not going to. I like my virginity, thank you very much. "

"It never crossed my mind." Sasha said smoothly.

"_Right_." Sophia snorted.

"That was most unbecoming, Soph. I'd work on you graces before you drop in on your boy-toy again."

"Please, cut the crap, Sassy. He says Tuesday. We have four days."

"We'll need to go shopping."

"Tell me about it." Sophia grumbled as she hailed a cab.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

7 boxes, mostly with clothing and art-related things. One of the seven just filled with her favorite mugs. A lamp. A special armchair. Totes, 2 filled with paint. One old chest of draws that had actually been bought yesterday at an antique dealer's home sale. A large hand carved jewel chest made in Guatemala. Some posters. Several slim shoebox sized containers of CDs. An easel.

And a cat.

Jewel, now under the name of Gem, had been taken along against her will. Sasha had offered her last night, saying "Listen, I know you'll be lonely, and if you want to take her, go ahead.'

"Won't you need her?"

"No. I'll call often. Besides, you need something to bicker about. You know, his allergies." Sasha grinned. "No stable relationship exists without something driving the couple apart. Yours can be your attachment to 'Gem'"

Sophia had grinned, and hugged Sasha, promising to bring the cat back, no matter what. Insecurity about the end put aside, she'd bring the damn cat back even if it killed her.

Not all that much stuff really. Everything fit in the back of the car Artemis had sent. After she had unloaded everything he stood in the main hall, eyeing the small group boxes, asking when the truck came.

"What truck?" Tara asked, confused.

"The one containing the rest of you possessions, Tara."

"This is it." She gestured toward the pile.

"_Seven_ boxes?" He asked incredulously. "I would think that would just be your most precious items, not your entire haul."

"Some of us are not millionaires. Besides, I don't need all that much." Tara rolled her eyes. _Good God, this boy is such a prat. _

"I'm taking you shopping." He announced.

Tara visibly paled. She'd had enough of that over the last four days. Her frown settled on her features, the subconscious knowing it would be awhile before there was cause of a removal of expression.

"For what?" She asked cautiously.

"Everything, apparently."

"I don't need anything."

"I disagree." He replied stiffly. "Either way, it's a free shopping trip. I wonder if we can call ahead…"

_Crap…_ She knew their first real argument was coming soon, but today…today wasn't a good day for it. She closed her eyes, and counted down to ten, trying to mentally prepare herself. Know Artemis, he would be very hard, but she had to throw a real debate at him sometime. Might as well get it over with.

"…Anything you want that fits."

"Oh, so now it's my clothes? You hate my clothing?" Her green eyes flashed, the Irish hot-bloodedness and Argentine-French tempter living up to their reputation in one glare. Artemis stumbled back, surprised by her reaction. Tara had never been one to lash out, at least, not at him.

"No, I love your outfits." He insisted, for he really did." They're beautiful, enchanting, _bella__, mucho, __Querida."_

"Then why are you insisting buyingme more? I have plenty! Are they too slutty?"

"No, I was just trying to be nice and buy you some more." He said meekly.

" I don't want more! Artemis-" But by that time, Artemis had remember who he was and regained his usual stamina.

"Gods Tara! I'm trying to give you something! You don't let me do anything for you-"

"That's not true you're letting me live here, Italy, dinner-"

Artemis sighed, exasperated. "I was only able to give you those things as a surprise. But you won't let me buy you_ anything!_"

"I don't need _anything_!"

His own temper flared. "Tara, just let me." He said flatly.

"You've already given me enough. I don't need or want anything. A place to stay is more than enough without the shopping trips!"

"You might not even have that if you don't let me." He threatened.

All during this argument they had progressively leaned in closer and closer toward each other till their foreheads almost touched. Now Tara stepped back, hand placed delicately on the hollow of her throat. Her glare was more than a rival to Artemis's own.

_How juvenile! So "You're-not-my-friend-anymore-so-you're-uninvited-to-my-birthday-party"!! Into the extremes! _

She wasn't about to completely give up, but it had come to a danger zone. Sophia needed to be in Fowl Manor for the mission. If he kicked her out, it could take _years_ of rebuilt trust and his hopeful maturity. Possibly some major sacrifice on her part. And they simply did not have the time. Because he had offered his home to her earlier than originally expected, the plan was moved back in date of completion, but with this threat…and spending years to reach their goal…besides, the longer you stayed with the lab rat the more attached you became. This needed to be over fast. On both accounts.

So she played her cards. She had to be theatrical, but not so dramatic. She needed his guilt and her stand to still stand. Hurt had to be real. It was, in a way. She had to be in control of this too. Steer it in _her_ direction.

"Because I'm not letting you shop for me as though I am some homeless wrench you've taken in as a pet you're offended? I'm saving you time and money, yet you are kicking me out?"

"No-"

"You implied it."

Artemis did not disagree, remaining silent. Tara just shook her head, closing her eyes wearily.

"If this is how things are going to be, maybe I should just leave." Her voice quivered in the right places. _Perfect._

"No, that's not what I wan-" Artemis started desperately. She had to listen.

""It's not all about what you want, Artemis." Tara snapped, a dagger slashing through his pleas. A diamond one. Like her father's.

"Relationships are give-take. I know that's what you are trying to do, but you're not going about it in the right way. I don't want money, or clothes. I want something a little bit harder to get. Impossible to but. I want you to try. If you don't think you can do that, I don't think I can stay. I'm trying to give back, really I am. We're both smart people, we can work it out. But you've got to _try._" Her tone softened. "I care about you, nothing can ever change that, but you've got to hear me out."

Silence ensued as they both replayed what had been said. Artemis stared at Tara, in shock. He wasn't told off by anyone very often. Tara examined her nails, giving him time, and the silence stayed. Finally Artemis spoke.

"Tara."

Her head shot up. It was one word, but still…nobody could make him, the Great Artemis Fowl, apologize. Nobody could scare him. Nobody could make him admit his wrongs. By "nobody" three are unincluded; Butler Holly, and now Tara. It wasn't like him to say sorries, he might regret something, but he would never clue you in on his feelings. So she didn't get her hopes up. Rightly, as it turned out.

"I…I'll listen."

It was enough. She took three steps forward, head back down. When she stood before him she looked up, head cocked, a tiny smirk playing across her features.

"And I'll remind you just how wrong and arrogant you are one third of the time, you pompous ass." Then she hugged him. Partly in dismay, partly in amusement, Artemis hugged back, heart soaring. He wasn't wrong in his choice.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Butler strode in on the Gavin girl hugging his charge. That wasn't surprising, but the fact that Artemis was indeed embracing the girl back was a little unusual. Back when the relationship was still alive, Artemis barely even touched Minerva. He was so not the touching type. Opposite of his mother, who gave physical endearments quite often.

The manservant cleared his throat, causing the pair to promptly jump apart.

"Artemis. Miss. Gavin." He still didn't trust her.

"Butler." The young woman said warmly.

"It's ready." He informed Artemis. The young genius nodded, still flushed. He turned to the girl.

"Do you want to see your room?" He asked Tara excitedly.

"Sure." She made a move to get a box or two of her things, but Artemis had already grabbed her arms saying "Butlerillgettit." And proceeded to drag her up the main stairs, babbling about the renovations, why he chose hat room, et cetera. When they finally got to the door he became a little nervous, running his hands through his usually smooth hair.

"I hope you like it."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

It wasn't a bedroom. It was an entrance room that led to a larger chamber that was a study, library, office and living room all in one. Designed with classic patterns and colours, with modern architecture and shapes. There were shelves and shelves of books, comfortable looking armchairs, a professional looking desk, and a state-of-the-art media center. Someone had placed some plants strategically about the room. Sophia never had a green thumb, so these lovely ferns would soon be dead, sadly. Still, they would nice while they lasted.

And the colours! Bright, happy, full, bouncy, lovely. Lavenders, yellows, greens, magentas, turquoise, blues, silver. He really knew her…or Tara. He knew Tara.

For a moment Sophia's heart dropped. He did not know Sophia Iver at all. He likes Tara, the bohemian artist, not the world famous thief, daughter of the greatest spy who ever lived. Maybe, in another life…she now so badly wanted to know her friend. Sure he was a huge brat, spoiled, arrogant, but he was her best friend. He could actually hold an intelligent conversation with her, few could do that. It still did not deny the fact that Artemis, her best friend, did not know her. But somehow, he had interpreted the blend of Tara and Sophia's tastes. The colours, the style, the simple beauty. She loved it everything about it, it was her room. The second sanctuary in her world. Just like her rooms in the brownstone. Well, not really. The feel was similar, though the colours in her brownstone rooms were warm.

Tara turned about the room, her mouth open slightly. Artemis watched, excited, anxious for her review. He planned every angle for her. Four days was short notice, but he had begun the calls shortly after she stepped out of the limo Thursday night.

When she turned, eyes wide, shaking her head in disbelief, his heart sank. She did not like it. Maybe it should have been more traditional, more like the hotel room Juliet had suggested.

"Oh my god." She blurted out. "Artemis, it's-I…beautiful. You designed this for me?"

Silently, he nodded.

She turned about again. "_Perfect_" was all she breathed. Tara wandered around, still amazed, touching things, soaking it in, pulling books off shelves, examining art. Artemis remained in the background, watching her, trying to guess her thoughts.

Next they want to the actual bedroom part of the apartments. This room too was perfect. Royal. Silk, gold, deep colours, metallics. The first thing she saw was a huge four-poster with net curtains that mother-of-pearl shell circles sewn on ribbons were topped with, more shells falling in the curves of the fabric. The sheets were creamy cotton, with a fluffy down comforter in a French blue. The shelves and furniture were in cherry stains, and were serious, slim pieces.

There was a CD library, empty shelves just for her things, plump armchairs, a deep purple chaise lounge and a secret closet hidden behind a wardrobe big enough to bold five years worth of clothes. And shoes. And jewelry. Maybe she could use a shopping trip…

The double windows sat beside French doors leading to a tiny balcony, which was a great feature, for Artemis knew her love of breakfast outdoors.

Artemis couldn't stop smiling now. She gushed on and on about the detail, the size, the colours, he got everything right, damn it! He was very pleased that she was delighted. At the very least he had hoped for a cool "It's nice." The reaction recived was more than enough. _She loved it. She's staying! _

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

After a long tour of the rest of the Manor Butler arrived in the Gallery to fetch them, by orders of Mrs. Fowl.

"For dinner." He said. "Mrs. Fowl says your father is home, so meet in the drawing room so he can greet Miss. Gavin."

So it was another two hours of polite conversation and then coffee until she could return to her room. She didn't unpack, she'd save that for tomorrow. Her body and mind were just too worn. Hours of casual lying, quick answers, and monitoring Artemis through the tour, dinner, and dessert took energy. All she wanted to do now was crawl into bed, sleep for 18 hours straight. Rest, that was all. Unfortuantly, that was not on Angeline's mind, as only ten minutes after Tara had entered her room, as she was slipping into her PJ's the knock fell upon her door.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Sorry for the long wait. It was hard to get back into the beat of things. Thank you for the reviews, they rox!! I had a great trip, though I lost my chapter plan somewhere. So now I'm lost, though I've managed to work out a sub, it doesn't have the same descriptions my old one did. Ah, well. **

**R&R faster updates& love from me! **

**-Dania**


	21. Naming Lab Rats

"Mrs Chapter 21, Naming Lab Rats

**I've been getting a lot of reviews telling me my grammar and spelling suck like Indonesian candy (for any of you who have read **_**Eat Pray Love)**_**, and I don't know how to get a beta, and besides I think it's take even longer for me to post even if I did get one…so, whatever. Just correct me. Or ignore it. I did finally stop adding that extra "s" to Arty's name, aren't you proud Ms. Feazell (LA teacher)? **

**Any how. Read and Review, maybe the motivation will make me post sooner. I mean, chapter 22 &23 are practically finished, it's all on you now, my readers. **

**DICLAIMER: Arty isn't mine**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_Wake me up inside__  
__Call my name and save me from the dark__  
__Bid my blood to run_

_I can't wake up _

_Before I come undone__  
__Save me from the nothing I've become__Bring me to life__  
__I've been living a lie__  
__There's nothing inside__  
__Bring me to life__Frozen inside without your touch__  
__Without your love, darling__  
__Only you are the life among the dead__All of this time, I can't believe I couldn't see__  
__Kept in the dark, but you were there in front of me__  
__I've been sleeping a thousand years it seems…_

…_Don't let me die here_

-Evanescence, Bring Me to Life

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Mrs. Fowl?"

Angeline stood, wringing her hands, in the threshold. Her hair was down, make-up still on, and half her jewels had been removed. She must have been in the middle of undressing, Tara realized, when the idea of this midnight visit occurred to her.

"Are you alright?" Tara asked as she pulled her hostess into the Rec room hall. Angeline gave a weak smile, fiddling with her wedding band. Platinum with diamond and sapphire surrounding the biggest stone. A nice make, Sophia's keen jeweler's eye said, though worry worn through the Fowl's nearly 30 years together. The sapphire most likely to represent her husband's eyes, mirror to her son's. A romantic thought, "Timmy's" perhaps? Hopefully it was hereditary.

"I-" Angeline started, then ducked her head, embarrassed. "I need to speak with you. "

Tara fought the urge to roll her eyes. Obviously she didn't come for a goodnight kiss. Angeline didn't hate her, but there was a wariness and slight distrust that was apparent. _When you're that wealthy, you have a_ _right to be._

The older woman swallowed. "About Artemis."

Sensing this would take time, Tara led Mrs. Fowl to the sitting area, the left wall around the corner facing the media center. Angeline took the couch so Tara seated herself next to her, smoothing her pajamas to distract herself. She sat patiently waiting for the woman to gather her thoughts. Angeline seemed to search the air around her for words.

"He…I…when he was a boy, Timmy went missing for a few years." She glanced to Tara, who nodded.

"Artemis has spoken of it." She said softly. He had told her one night during a quiet dinner of how his mother lost her sense of reality, how she had been unable to recognize her own son at some points. It had been a hard time for the poor boy, almost like loosing both parents. After telling her this, Sophia had begun to have second thoughts. He was trusting her, like he should, but it didn't feel right, him telling her such personal things while she planned to take his trust and money all in one swipe. But when she confined to her sister, Sasha had just given her a sympathetic pat on the hand saying, "Don't start naming lab rats, Darling."

"And I went a little mad. I couldn't even remember who I was sometimes. Arty never told me what exactly I said or did, and I can only recall flashes, but I know…I know I must have broken his heart sometimes, with the things I'd said. " She closed her eyes in pain. "Maybe I said he wasn't good enough, that he could never replace his father, I don't know.

"But he hasn't complained, ever. When Minerva up and left, that rip him in two. They fought all the time, she threatened to leave a lot, but he just didn't expect it. He never said anything; he just had this…ache in his eyes all the time. " Angeline looked away, trying to hide the watery eyes. " I didn't know what to do. We cancelled all of our trips, tried to draw him out of his room, spent time together. Nothing worked.

"Then, one day, we came home from a trip to the grocery to find him gone. He had planned it for days. Butler didn't even know. He left a note saying he was in Italy, though he wouldn't say where. He said it was useless to try and find him; he had bought 5 plane tickets, all private. We asked Butler to get his connections to keep an eye on him. Artemis did a good job. No one saw him until three weeks after. But we didn't try to bring him home. We understood he needed some alone time. Still, we kept someone on him."

Tara nodded, understanding. She would have done the same if it were her son.

Angeline sighed. "He knew, though he didn't attempt to run. I think he was a little guilty, so he keep in sight to reassure us."

"Where did he go?"

"Venice."

Tara froze. Her city. Dear gods, he had taken her to his _sulking pit_!

The older woman must have recognized the expression on the girl's face, for she said soothingly, "My dear, he didn't take you there for the reasons you are thinking. He took you because he wanted to give you a good time. He mentioned that you had wanted to go there, am I right?"

Hesitantly, Tara nodded.

"To him, it's not a bad memory, it is a place of peace. He went there to make peace with Minerva."

"Did he visit her?" Tara blurted out. Angeline blinked. "No. He just meditated on the event, and came to terms. He hasn't seen Minerva for years. I think she's avoided him."

"Oh." The two women sat in silence, contemplating what had been said. Tara was appalled that she had _cared_ that Artemis had taken her to "sulking pit". She wasn't suppose to care! _Damnit. We've got to concentrate on the task at hand. Disregard the unnecessary emotions. _Her father's voice was there again.

_He's not important. Do not forget our real goal. _

And so was her sister's.

"Why are you telling me this?" She honestly didn't know. Was it a warning? Against scamming this woman's son? Was Angeline Fowl on to them?

Mrs. Fowl looked her straight into her eyes. There was a hint of steel in the clear green-gray. "Because I care about my son. I don't know you. I cannot find any background information on you, or your family. But somehow…I know you are what he wants. What he needs. You two are so…one on one. You're average and casual enough to get him to relax, to show him he's not alone. Even if this falls through, he'll _see_. So I am asking you… if you ever leave, do it kindly. Make sure you're the one with the broken heart. Please."

Tara was stunned. Angeline Fowl knew she had no past, didn't trust her a lick, yet was willing to allow her into the Manor for her son. Did she think Artemis perhaps _loved _her? No, no, nothing like that. She just thought that Arty liked her, and would have his feelings hurt if she ever left. Pathetic rich kid.

Sophia lied. For once it was hard. But only a little.

"Alright."

Angeline misread the girl's expression. Her own softened. "Do you care about him?"

"Yes." _More than I'd like to admit. He's my best friend. _

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_A few nights later:_

It was late. Past midnight. He had been working since eleven that morning, and hadn't seen her all day. Knowing her lack of coffee that morning would have since caused her to pass out he headed in the direction of her room, hoping to at least look at her before he himself went to bed. Maybe he'd even dare to kiss her.

Wearily Artemis trudged down the halls, till he got to the Monet that hung next to her door. It was a garden scene. Pretty. His mother had bought it years ago on one of her trips to France, then came home to find there was nowhere to put it. Shortly before Tara moved in, Artemis dug it up from the "Art Room", an unfinished section of attic that was to be gallery. He thought that Tara would like it best, and he was right. She had even requested to paint a copy for her sister.

While studying the art, he heard some muted, shrill sound, and then a snuffling coming from her room. The cat she had brought was outside; he'd just seen it a moment ago. What was making that sound? The television?

After listening for a few more seconds Artemis recognized it as sobbing. Crying. Tara was crying. Was she unhappy? Unhappy that she had come? She'd only been there for three days, how could…?

Ignoring his logical side, Artemis put his had on the knob.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_It was dark here. As usual. They were always dark. A long hallway with windows and doors aligning the walls on either side. You couldn't see anything from out the windows, nor could you open the doors. Not that she had tried. She figured that if she did ever open one, all there would be was a black pit, sucking her down into the dreams. And she would never return._

_But this was different. Her mother, her father, not even Sasha was there. That was unusual. Somewhere in this place they would be here. But tonight they weren't. Not in this nightmare. _

_So she wandered. There was no way she could leave, or wake up. Either it would have to start or she would be walking these halls until the dawn light woke her. It really wasn't that bad, just walking. Maybe she'd learn something new about herself. Yes. That was it, this was all spiritual. Perhaps she a drifted off in meditation again. The only alternative was receiving a darker nightmare, would that be so bad? Time moved on quickly, maybe it would happen soon. _

_The "_creeeek_" of an unoiled door being opened caught her attention. Seeing as it wasn't in front of her she whipped around to face the doors to her back. There at the end of the hall (Though curiously enough, there had never been an end in sight before) white light cast a shadow along the floor. The silhouette shifted slightly. She blinked, but stood firmly in place trying her best to recognize her intruder. _

_A deadly rush of fear filled Sophia, but she couldn't run. Wouldn't run. The sooner she screamed the sooner this would be over. However, the scientist in her wanted to observe this strange occurrence. Ignoring the fear she took a hesitant step forward. Who was it this time? Who opened a door? No one had ever entered that way; usually they were waiting for her. _

_Though she wanted to call out to question the shadow the dream wouldn't let her. It was always the Confrontation that made the first move. They called out to her, called her name, accusing her from their early departure. She knew it wasn't her fault. She knew the demons haunting her were her own sub-conscious' guilt and not the truth. She hadn't killed Gavin. Her mother died of natural causes. Therefore she stood waiting. _

_Finally the figure moved again, speaking. It was a voice she easily remembered, but never was it used in such as cold tone. At least, not directed toward her._

"Tara."

_It moved again, and she could see a face. The face was just as cold as the voice, and it sent a knife though her gut. _

_While she still felt scared, surprise, panicked, there was one emotion that didn't belong. Heartbreak. This was shocking. How could she feel so…broken over someone who she didn't…didn't…did not love. That emotion was not suppose to be present. _

"Don't name lab rats."

_Artemis' blue black eyes were on her own and they spoke hate. _

"You dare betray me." _Was all he whispered as he raised the pistol, taking aim._

_Sophia closed her eyes, tears escaping but she didn't cry out. _End it soon. _She silently begged._

"Look at me." _He commanded. His words forced her head up, her eyes to his blue black ones. That was odd. One of his eyes were hazel, they weren't both blue. Those dark eyes bore into hers, like hard cold iron. Something briefly flickered in them, regret maybe, then his finger-another odd thing, they were in the right place for once-touched the trigger, Sophia screamed, and-_

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

She thrashed around in his arms, moaning words he couldn't understand. For nearly five minutes he restrained her, whispering her name repeatedly, doing his best to wake her. After a while her eyes opened, fear very apparent. She glanced up meeting his eyes. Her own widened, seemingly in more fear. He sat on the edge of her bed. The covers and curtains had been tossed aside, seemingly to get to her. Had she been so loud?

"Artemis," Her voice was hoarse, though she's only been asleep a short time.

"Are you alright?" was all he asked quietly, acknowledging her statement.

Slowly she nodded, unsure of her answer, but at the very least able to give one. Nothing was hurt, she could speak, she wasn't dying, she was just frightened. Well, not even that. Artemis' presence was very calming, though he was the original cause of her terror.

"Can you speak?" The single word had not been enough.

She nodded again. He smiled slightly.

"Then why don't you?"

She shrugged, shivering a little.

"Nightmare?"

This time her whole body gave a huge shudder. Artemis pulled her closer, pressing his face into the waves of auburn. Tara simply sighed, partly in contentment, and partly in relief. He was just comforting. Not thinking, she snuggled closer. Sensing an invitation, Artemis pulled his legs onto the bed. There was no objection. His heart sang.

They sat like that for ages. There was nothing sexual about it. They were just comforting each other. Things were simple. _For once. _Artemis thought. Just two friends lending some time.

He'd give her a million if that's what took it to make her see him. Hell, he would skip around Dublin stark naked if she asked. _Though, hopefully she won't _He shuddered. That would be a certain nightmare, though he's do it in a heartbeat if that's she asked.

Tara shifted, murmuring something unintelligible. Artemis glanced to the left, where on the wall a mirror hung to extend the room and give more light. She was asleep, smiling a little. _Maybe… _

It was late and he was tired. The door was locked, he was still clothed…if anyone were to walk in…he couldn't simply leave her now, she was in a delicate state. It would be cruel. He didn't know if this was a reoccurring event or a one-night thing, but either way, he was staying. She didn't seem to want him to leave if her arms slung around his neck, or her right had still in his hair, fingers entwined in the raven locks, were any indication. He would leave in the morning, perhaps, before she woke…

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Sophia woke instead three hours later, around three forty-five.

She pressed her face into the pillow, inhaling the lavender scent that greeted her every morning. The aroma that reached her nose, however, was not lavender. It was some familiar smell, one that made her shiver. Had Jewel dragged one of Mrs. Fowl's pillow back again. The last time she had handed the slightly hairy thing back to Angeline flushed and embarrassed, a little ashamed of her badly behaved pet.

From under her there was a constant up-down motion like a…

"_Well that's odd." _Sophia thought sleepily as she shoved the comforter off, for she was a bit warm. _"Did he give me one of those high-tech relaxation beds?"_

"No." A voice moaned. "That's not right. You need more carbon!"

Sophia froze, realizing now what the smell, the movement of the bed, and the extra were. Slowly she lifted her head from the "pillow" to see her host beneath her, his own head tipped back, one arm around Sophia's waist, the other had in her hair. A content little smile rested on his features. She was even more surprised to find herself in a similar position; only her left arm was over his shoulder. He murmured something else, tightening his grip on her waist. Tara gasped, checking to see if he had woken.

He hadn't. Yet.

"_What is he doing here?" _She was more than a little annoyed. But mostly at herself. _"Or rather, what am I doing her? Did we-" _She broke off, shocked. "_Surely not…" _

It was then that the memory flooded back. Sophia sighed, relief submerging her mind. Then she ignored her ego, concentrating only on how nice this was. It felt right, like she belonged here. Just here, her head on Artemis' chest, in the Manor. She could see her future. More mornings like this.

"_Three beautiful children, all brilliant and special and talented. One like her father, one like his mother, another in between. _

_Morning of waking late, nights of long reading. _

_A Business that thieved_

_Never being lonely, a companion to always hear you_

_Years spent in joy, growing in age, learning more. Being together._

_Life could be peaceful." _

Sophia closed her eyes. Gods that would be great. Perfect, even. But she had responsibilities, promises, a duty to Sasha. That life, the three kids, the successful business, could never be. And it was hard to accept that. Very, very hard.

She took a deep, reassuring breath, meditating on her options. She could stay; do the opposite of what Sasha had asked. She could run away, she could flee. The obvious thing was to remind herself what a monster Artemis was. But he wasn't. Not to her. He never had been.

"_Ah,"_ The snide voice said, this time against he logic_. "but he could be, couldn't he? If he knew. If he ever knew the truth. What if you stayed? Would you tell him? He'd find out one day, you know." _

"_Go away!"_ Sophia hissed_. "I can do this my self."_

"_I am you."_ It replied smugly. "_But if you say…still, I'll be here if in the event…"_

"_No, thank you."_ Sophia snapped. She knew what she needed, the voice did not. Reminders like that dream.

Artemis shifted again and Sophia opened her eyes. His breath moved her hair, tickling her forehead. Vaguely, Sophia wondered if he knew what her dream was about. Perhaps she had said something…

Sophia glanced in the mirror on the wall beside her. Disheveled hair, wrinkled suit, mouth slightly open, a light snore. Gods, he was perfect. And she looked like she belonged. Like they fit.

_Enough dreaming, Cara. _

Sighing, Sophia rolled over to lay beside, instead of on top, of Artemis, still in his arms. Artemis slept on, unknowing that the love of his life had been so distraught over his dangerous nature, and his sleeping form. Sophia tried to do the same, pretending that she truly did belong.

He was gone before she woke.

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**Well, that's it. I'm sorry about any confusion, just ask if you're still in wonderment. Artemis' change in eye colour and fingers is showing how Sophia imagines him, as he would be had he not met the People and learned some manners, as a ruthless killer. It will crop up later in the story, as the memory of the nightmare comes back, and the nightmares continue. **

**This chapter is mainly about Sophia's fight to not get too emotionally attached with Artemis, but to also stay human enough to feel the loss should she have to end this the wrong way. Though she wants to stay and continue the charade, she won't for Sasha's sake. **

**Artemis is more openly admitting his own feelings, and is doing his best to try to find a place in Tara's heart besides the title of "BFF". **

**The Chapter's title "Naming Lab Rats" came to me in a dream. Pft, no, I was thinking of some Star Trek episode, and was remembering a quote. Anyhow, the basic idea of the name is don't name the lab rat, you'll become more attached, and you'll be more heart broke if/when you kill it. **

**We're working on it. Review, please. **

**-MDQ10**


	22. Waiting Trains

**Chapter 22, Waiting Trains**

**I GOTTA BETA!!** Many thanks to** M y r k e d K o h l**! You rock! She did an excellent job editing, and without her this chapter might not have seen day light for a long time. I own her, this is a lot better than it originally was.

DISCLAIMER: Artemis isn't mine. If he was, do you think I'd still be on posting this sad story? No, my real name would be posted across the world, and I'd be living in California or England, not the Midwest.

Enjoy and review.

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Tara waltzed into his study the morning after wearing a stunning dress and smile. The dress was a little below the knee, a length she seemed to like, made of soft silk in a Chinese style, adorned with a pattern of golden Chinese symbols, orange gold fish, and bamboo pieces, all in a bright lucky bleu. Her red curls were up in a stylish bun held in place by what looked to be two golden chopsticks encrusted with semi-precious stones. Her jewelry consisted of silver toe ring, gold wristbands, and a green choker embroidered with golden vines, perfect for bring out the green of the bamboo on the dress. Light pink, non-shimmery eye shadow, brown eyeliner, clean face, glossy lip. It all came together.

"Going some where?" He asked, taking in the Asian-inspired outfit.

"Yes, it's Wednesday." Tara answered, smoothing out her lap as she sat across from his desk in one of the black leather armchairs. They had agreed that Wednesdays were the days she went back to the brownstone to check on Sarah.

Artemis nodded. "Tell her I said hello. Do you need a ride?"

"Nah, I'll take the metro. I need to mingle with society once in a while." She grinned faintly, always happy to tease him about the unorthodox upbringing he had, and his general discomfort around people.

Artemis snorted. "Right. Could you be back by seven? Mother's leaving tomorrow, so we're having a 'Family Dinner'"

"I will." She assured him. "How long will she be gone?"

"Till the twenty-third."

"Of this month?"

"No, next. July. America, you know, great shopping." He rolled his eyes.

She nodded, getting up, taking slow deliberate steps toward the door. When she turned back Artemis had returned to his papers. Her good mood dropped a little. _When was the boy going to catch the hint?!_

"Well…bye."

"Bye."

"I'll miss you…a ton."

"Mmmh?" He looked up, briefly, "I'll miss you to."

Artemis finally looked up when Tara gave a defeated sigh. There was a look of disappointment clearly written on her face, which confused him profusely. What had she been let down about? Was it something he said? He glanced back to his paper and muttered, _"girls."_

"Bye." She said again in a monotone. Her hand lingered on the framework of the threshold, and he imagined running her hand along the wall, trailing beside her, carelessly thrown out to guide her as she daydreamed.

So he returned to his work, a physics paper detailing the true natures of light and dark. But what she had, or rather, hadn't said stuck in his mind. After nearly twenty minutes he gave up, concentrating solely on what had taken place. She had expected something. What? A ride? A compliment. Artemis recalled women often expected things of that nature, by giving impossible, cryptic hints that even the young genius couldn't decode. She wasn't that shallow, however. And as a feminist, she didn't need things like that, for god's sake, and often said so.

Another 15 minutes went by before he got it.

Tara had worn lip gloss. She had pursed her lips more often than normal. She lingered, kept saying good-bye because she had wanted him to _kiss_ her. And most likely not the peck-on-the-cheek-Leave-it-to-Beaver kind of kiss. Gods, he was so thick.

It wasn't that he didn't want to kiss her; no, he'd held back the urge quiet often, not wanting to be too forward. They'd been together for five months! Most couples were sleeping together after 3 weeks! He doubted she wanted that much, but surely…

_Why haven't I done this? _

Well, he'd give her one tonight, after dinner. In the hall, or his study, where they could have privacy.

That didn't seem to be enough…well, there was little he could do now, unless he was about to run all the way to the metro system and catch her before she left--that stopped him in his tracks.

"Why not?" He mused aloud. "It would mean more to her anyways."

In less than thirty seconds he had descended down the stairs into the garage. Grabbing the first set of keys on the rack, he rushed to the cherry convertible she loved so much.

He drove unconsciously to the nearest metro station. Tara usually walked to the train, which was a good thirty minute walk if she went by the road. Seeing as she was in a dress, Artemis doubted that she would take the "scenic" route through the thick wooded area, even if it did cut her time in half. If he hurried perhaps he could catch her before the metro left. Artemis glanced at the clock on the dashboard. 2:13 pm. The metro left in two minutes. There was little chance he would make it; about 15 to 375. He parked the car, then ran to the nearest turnstile, flashed his pass and sped to the tracks.

It was too late. The metro was already 10 seconds gone. The young man almost began shouting curses in various languages before he noticed the office marked as "EMPLOYMENT ONLY"

He opened the door without a second thought

The person inside the tiny director's booth was a portly little balding man who swung round, startled.

"Yon c-can't be in h-here!" The pudgy little man protested.

"Turn the two-fifteen to Dublin around and you'll receive 30 pounds." Was all the young genius barked. The average Metro-United employee made one third of that in a day. "Oh, uh… Right!"

With another 60 seconds of patience the train was back in the lane. The pudgy man explained to the driver that it was an emergency, and it'd take some time to start the train back again, for which Artemis gave him another 10 pounds for doing his 'job' "a bit above average".

"20 more if you keep it for the next ten minutes." Artemis promised, forking over the due 40.

The man nodded, not realizing he probably ought to ask for the extra 20 up front, rather than be cheated out when Artemis left. But he was, after all working in a smelly booth for Metro-United.

Artemis skipped on to the train, peering around. He had not the faintest idea of how long it would take him to find Tara in all the cars. But ten minutes would be enough. He was lucky, however; she was in the first car he checked.

Her nose was buried in a book, nothing new about that. Other passengers stared at him as he strode down the aisle. Tara sat oblivious until he stopped in front of her. By then she had noticed the lack of sound and movement and looked up, flickering her gaze up, then doing a double take. Her blue-green eyes widened. She opened her mouth to speak but before a single syllable came out Artemis pulled her up and placed his mouth over hers.

At first she didn't move. Didn't react. Didn't stiffen and push him away. Didn't kiss back. Didn't moan or groan. Just stood. In shock.

Then it was like something had finally kicked in. She pushed back hungrily, putting her arms around his neck and forcing herself closer. One of his hands went to her waist and one to the back of her neck on the base of her skull, his thumb caressing the area gently.

Neither of them cared that the entire car was staring at them, that they both knew Tara wouldn't be visiting her sister today, or that their clothes were becoming rumpled.

When a voice on the intercom came on they broke apart, remembering they weren't in private. As the driver apologized for the "Technical error" and delay, Artemis grinned sheepishly, attempting to apologize himself, but only go to "I'm sor-" before Tara rolled her eyes and kissed him again.

Some college-aged kids cheered them on, while the older citizens adverted their eyes and shook their heads, though whether in disgust or remembrance, it was impossible to tell.

"Let's go." Tara whispered. He agreed. They just made it to the doors when a tiny old woman made the comment the "Now would be the perfect time to take her home and _you know_." The woman waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

The pair promptly turned red and exited quickly, holding their laughter until the station was far behind them.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

He didn't even bother parking the car back into the garage, instead just stopping in the drive.

"Are you parents here?"

"No."

"Butler, Juliet?"

"At the lodge."

"Thank god." She sighed, dragging him out of the car. When they got indoors she started embracing him. "I'd thought you'd never figure it out." She murmured into his neck. Artemis blushed. "It's been years since I've had to woo a girl. Nearly a decade. I've forgotten to pick up those obscure hits."

"Not my problem." Tara declared, dismissing the excuse. "You should have been more perceptive."

He almost disagreed, but decided an argument at the current moment was unwise. That and his girlfriend had started kissing his neck.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Miss Gavin?"

"Huh?" Tara's head popped up from behind the couch. Another knock on the door and Artemis was awakened too.

"The atomic mass isn't equal-" He started sleepily. Tara swooped down, kissing him lightly and then shushing him quietly. Butler would get the wrong impression if he saw the pair asleep together. True, they had their clothes on, but they would still be…together. And Tara didn't want even the slightest hint of doubt being reported to Angeline.

"Miss. Gavin." The manservant called again. She stood, stretching, and answered the door. Luckily, the couch was out of sight of the door, and Artemis was a sound sleeper.

"Butler." She said, smiling charmingly. "Uh, sorry. I was sleeping."

He nodded, no expression on his face. "Mrs. Fowl requests you accompany the family for dinner; she's leaving today."

"Oh!" Tara glanced at the clock on the wall to her right. 7:12.

"I am so sorry, the time passed me by. Could you send my sincerest apologies to everyone?" She paused, "thanks."

He started down the hall, but a thought struck him and he then turned back to her. "Have you seen Artemis any where? He's been missing for a while. "

"Ah, no. Though, did you check the library? Or his study? He might have gone there. No, I haven't seen him all afternoon." She replied, feigning innocence.

The manservant nodded again, and made his way toward the library. Tara let out a breath of relief, then turned back to the boy who had caused her so much trouble. She leaned on the corner over looking the media center, shaking her head at his pale perfection. Sadly, it was time for him to go.

"Up, Arty." She sang, shaking his sleeping form.

"Why?" He moaned. "I was having a exquisite dream."

"Good for you. Now, out. Butler will be in your room in another ten minutes looking for you, you better be there getting ready."

At that he sat bolt upright. "It's seven already?"

Tara nodded gravely. "Your mother sent Butler looking for us. He didn't see you." She said quickly in response to his alarmed expression. "But I sent him to the Library and your study. About a 10 minute round trip before he gets to your room. So take the route that avoids those areas. And you might want to change." She said as an afterthought, nodding to his wrinkled shirt.

He gave her a scathing look that quite clearly said "_I know" _in a rather snotty tone. She just rolled her eyes and shoved him out the door with a final peck on the cheek.

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**Well, it's short but sweet. Originally this was going to be a little spicier, but I felt it wasn't necessary, so I'll leave it to your imagination. My only comment is that intelligent people make better lovers. And no, they didn't have sex. Neither Sophia or Arty really want to have premarital sex. But whatever. **

**Please review soon! Chapter 23 is nearly done, and 24 in first step-ness. From then on everything until about 37 is already written. Thanks for reading!**

**Oh, and I'm done with the whole review exchange thing, either you give so many when I'm gone that I'm a bit ashamed, or you give like, 2. So it's over, I'll post when I've got something.**

**-Dania **

**PS: For anyone who lives in the UK, I was hoping you could give me a list of common cleaning supplies, or companies. Mainly cause I don't think Wikipedia would have that odd info, and I'm too lazy to check anyhow. I really, really need them, they're important.**


	23. Cold Rooms

What the Voices Say

**What the Voices Say**

Chapt Whatever-Cause-I-forgot, Cold Rooms

I'm blushing now, cause the photographer I used as Sophia/Tara's fave was the one who photographed that Cyrus chick in the buff (or practically so). It's funny, or so I think.

About the actual story: Artemis is a bit of an overractor and Drama Queen in this. Throughout the books I've noticed his flare from the dramatics. I pumped it up a little too much, I know. But I like it. I credit his oddness to a late puberty and dysfunctional first relationship and a lack of parental advice. He really doesn't know how to act, blows stuff out of proportion when it involves her dislikes or discomforts, and tends to act on his theories alone. But does his best to listen to her, Butler and Juliet's advice.

Make of it what you will.

**DISCLAIMER:** Arty isn't mine, but Tara/Sophia and Sasha are.

My thanks to My Beta, M y r k K o h l and mizz-shy-gurl, the lovely Scot who gave me the info on British/Scottish cleaning supplies. I thank you so much, you were the only one who responded, Mizz. You rock, may you have many cookies. I dedicate this chapter to you. Or the next one, cause it rocks more.

Oh, yeah, sorry this is late.

Whatever. Review.

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Artemis was busy.

Tara couldn't visit 'Sarah'. Juliet; who had hit it off with Tara right off, becoming a close girl friend already, was with Mrs. Fowl shopping or something. There were no books, TV shows, musical CDs, or canvases that could distract her. Tara wanted to do _something_.

Be active.

Learn something.

Tara sat in the chaise lounge, soaking up the sunlight coming from the French doors behind her. A cold cup of coffee sat on the side table, long untouched, as was the bowl of fruit and croissant. The boredom was eating at her. Meditation wasn't working, nor was reading. It was 10:23 am and Artemis had left some hours earlier, kissing her on the cheek and muttering an apology.

"A meeting, love." He'd explained. "One of my investors has a few questions." The young man rolled his eyes, implying that the questions themselves would most likely be stupid, much like their inquirer. Hopefully this meeting wouldn't eat away all of his tolerance by day's end. On workdays Artemis tended to be a little testy, causing more than a few spats between the two.

Tara only sighed and hugged him as he left. She had known living at Fowl Manor wouldn't be all glamour and shine, after all; Artemis did have a company to run, but she still missed having him around. Loneliness was at her doorstep often, and she didn't like it as a companion. While Sophia had never been an extrovert, she did like to keep close company. As the sisters had never been able to keep any close friends, they resorted to each other. Contacting too often would cause questions she didn't want to answer.

Now she sat, stretched out (still in her pajamas), wondering. He had said she could go anywhere in the Manor. The short tour she had weeks ago hadn't stopped in every room, and she had an undeterminable amount of free time…

"_Well, why not?" _It might be useful to know the layout, god knows she'd been too lazy lately to explore anyhow. Really, it should have been the first thing she'd done. _"Papa would have been ashamed."_

She hopped up, skipped to the closet and began rummaging. The closet was huge, but luckily Juliet was there to help organize it into sections based on occasion, type, and colour. Tara had been thankful for the help, she was appreciative of the organization, but then mixed the colours back up again. She had never really been one to go by the colour-coordination rule. In the end, however she was no longer lost on what to wear from day to day.

She dressed quickly, selecting a dark washed boot cut pair of jeans, a cricket jersey, and strappy sandals that she knew wouldn't kill her feet, but still maintain the style aspect. Looking at the clock, Tara ran to the bathroom. She brushed her hair, washed her face, and applied lip gloss. She grabbed a penlight and flew out the doors, ready to begin snooping.

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For an hour she wandered aimlessly until she found the library. That, for Tara, was almost the best thing that had happened in the last 9 months. The next two hours were spent, not reading, but checking the stock. The palace of books had anything she had ever want to read and a lot of things she hadn't. Thousands upon thousand of book in manuscripts, CDs, files, and thumb drives. There were no paperbacks, even if the original was printed only in soft cover. The Fowls paid for (and got) long-lasting quality.

Taking a quick reference took forever for Sophia, even when she was looking through her small amounts personal favorites. She just became so caught up in the books themselves; reading the covers, examining the art, the conditions of the book, copyright date, author information, et cetera.

After nearly two hours spent at the library, (fast for her), she moved down to check out the lower parts of the house, the ground floor, and the cellars. The cellars had really been a mistake. Tara had stumbled into them by accident while opening every door in a particular hallway. When she found the medieval looking stone stairway leading down, curiosity won and she followed it, grateful for the penlight that she kept with her at all times.

It turned out that the penlight wasn't needed. The Fowl cellars had modern lighting, though Tara saw it as a bit of a waste seeing as the only thing down there was wine and fine liquor. A lot of it. Barrels, bottles, and cabinets full. _It's old_ _stuff, as well._ Tara observed. Either the Fowls enjoyed matured alcoholic beverages, or the family had really been around a _long_ time.

While she snuck around, Tara came upon a curious discovery; a solid metal door (of what kind she wasn't bothering to check) held by two concrete walls. The rest of the walls in the cellars were of stone, centuries old, but this section stuck out, forming a cube in a corner of the room…as if someone had built a room their to their fancy. Remembering a conversation with Sasha the week before, a scolding for not sneaking around enough, Sophia eyed the door. What could be behind it? Was it Artemis'? Was it something secret? If it was, then why hide it in plain sight? True, it was in the basement, a place most guests wouldn't have a chance to explore, but still. His parents had easy access, and they were not involved in his or _her_ plans. Shrugging, she tried the door. It was unlocked.

Sophia stepped inside. There was nothing, save an old army cot. The floor was covered in dust and rubble. Judging from the state of the cot, which had many dents and scratches across its surface, it was the tool used to create the litter. A tiny hole, revealing the dirt of the outside world, was in a corner. It was apparent that the hole had been made shortly after the room had been, and the room itself abandoned not long after the hole had been created. The form of the concrete… the dust…it was all evidence. Somebody had gone to the trouble of making a sturdy, close to impenetrable room, tore it up a bit, though hardly, and then left it untouched for years. A decade, maybe less.

"_What have you been doing, Artemis?"_

She was prepared to exit the perplexing room when an object caught her eye. A black rectangular object huddled in one corner of the cell, maybe an inch and a half thick and eight inches across. Checking to see that no one had entered the cellars, she tentatively made her way across the room, careful where she walked. Nothing blew up, no alarms sounded. Glancing around again, she stooped to pick it up.

It was a book, perhaps a diary, by the looks of it. Did it belong to one of the Butlers? Tara stifled a laugh. It was quite the mental image.

She almost opened it, but a creaking sound made her start. Someone was coming down the stairs, and she did not want to be caught here. In five seconds she had left the room and had created the illusion of browsing some casks of wine casually.

Artemis skipped into the cellar, whistling Bach. He had been in an oddly cheerful mood lately, though only displayed it around her. It was scary, really. Tara repressed a shudder. Maybe that was his intent. To bother the hell out of her in return for her own annoying habits.

He placed an arm lightly around her waist, kissing her gently. "Want to have lunch with me? We could have some of that." He nodded to a barrel with red liquid dated older than their ages combined.

"Maybe tonight. I don't drink midday. How'd the meeting go?"

He shrugged, leading her up the stairs. "Dull. You know, stubborn idiots looking to earn their millions, adding more pollution to our atmosphere by merely breathing. Someone called about my enviro car, complaining about colours. Then the developments on the methane cow pills," he rolled his eyes, "it won't go on the market for another five months. We'll be giving up beef until then."

"I can handle that." She grinned. "Can we use tofu instead?"

"Ah, no." Artemis shuddered. "We'll live on chicken."

They continued chatting, mostly about his work, recent scientific news and the idiots he had spoken with that morning, which was always a fun topic. It reminded Sophia of bad-mouthing actors with Sasha on Saturday mornings while watching the latest on pay-per-view, something thing they did instead of watching cartoons. Only with Artemis it was with larger words, and over less beautiful people.

"How about you?" Artemis asked. "Starting anything?"

"Well, I haven't anywhere to work! I would in my room, but I'm worried about messing it up. Very dirty work, you know, painting. I hate to ask, but are there any spare rooms…?"

Artemis leaned back, considering. He had known she didn't have a studio when he designed her room, and had planned to cross that bridge when it appeared, which it now had. There were a few options. The cellars, the attic gallery, or perhaps a guest room, all of which would mean more construction. He weighed the pros and cons. The cellars wouldn't work, too dark and no windows. The guest room would take time, and Tara would want to work as soon as she possibly could. As for the unfinished gallery…it would be the best choice. It was large, had lots of windows, and was constantly bathed in light. She could even design and decorate it herself. Yes, it was the perfect space. He needed to be rid of it anyhow, why not let Tara put it to use?

Tara popped a green from her salad into her mouth. "Are you listening to me?" she asked, not perturbed, just curious. Artemis usually had a _very _good reason for ignoring her prattling on. A new idea, or solution. Important things. She wasn't offended, just interested.

Artemis looked up. "Yes. Yes, of course. Painting is a bit messy…"

Tara smirked. "Arty, love, I said that 5 minutes ago. I was discussing renting a studio in the city. I mean, I can afford it, and it'd give you some space. Really you should be sick of me by now. And without having to pay utilities here, I've got cash to spare."

"No! I'm not sick of you, really. I think we might have space for you to adapt. "

"Adapt?" Tara inquired. "As in…?"

"Finish." Artemis ran a hand through his hair, another thing he did more often. Juliet confided in her that she thought it wasn't that he was frustrated, rather nervous. _Odd, yes, but has he ever played by the rules of body_ _language?_ Most people messed with their hair in anger, or annoyance, but not Artemis. "It was started and left off a few years ago." He said vaguely.

"Like, how many years ago?" Tara's eyes narrowed.

"Maybe a decade or so."

Tara looked horrified. "_T__en years_ of dust?"

"No, no, it's been cleaned, often, just still under construction. It's not that bad really."

Tara rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

"Do you want to see it?"

"Why not?"

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The staircase leading to the attic wasn't often used. It wasn't dusty, thanks to Juliet's careful eye, just a bit too preserved. No worn wood, scraped finish, or mushed carpet.

"Is there anything else up here?" Tara asked.

"On the other side of the wall there's the Hall." Artemis replied, referring to the maze of hallways that made up the family art gallery. "It used to be one long room, no drywall, insulation, just brick on the sides that also made up the outer wall. It was spilt in half, one side for the gallery, the other studio. Shortly before father left we started working on construction."

Tara nodded, looking around the upward tunnel. Hand crafted tapestries, old ones by the look of them, hung, faded and sad. They looked Medieval, made by one of the Fowl women back in the day, possibly. _What are they worth? _Artemis made a coughing sound. From the slant of the stairs they were nearly there.

Nothing but a transparent plastic tarp covered the doorway. Only blurry images and colours could be seen through it. Not that there was much to see anyhow. Artemis looked at her expectantly. Tentatively, she stepped forward to push the plastic aside. She slid carefully into the bright room, but Artemis caught her arm before she could get far. "Careful." He said indicating the slope.

The floor was about a foot deep from where the doorway was. A ledge went around the perimeter of the room, about a foot and four inches wide. Perfect for putting canvases or framed posters on without damage to the wall. "Was it like this, or did you commission it?"

"It was part of the original plans."

The room itself was long and a little dusty from neglect. There were only a few pieces of drywall covering the skeletal wood and wires. The floor was made of rough, beaten wood with nicks and scratches everywhere, giving it character in a real sense. It was more than big enough to be two rooms; entertainment and studio, perhaps. Tara thought it quite lovely, though the look on Artemis' face spoke otherwise.

She crossed carefully to the other wall, brick with four graceful arch windows hung. They were pitted, old pieces of glass, with air bubbles suspended forever holding the air from whatever era it came from, and thinner at the top than the bottom. She smiled, recalling the recent paper on glass she had read. It was written by one of her old tutors, detailing an experiment that proved glass was a liquid. A slow one, mind you, but liquid none the less. Her tutor had done test on glass centuries old, noting that the bottom was unusually thicker than the top. He attributed this to gravity, pulling the liquid down. She had figured this years ago, but hadn't thought anyone would believe a child.

Artemis hung back, watching her explore the architecture of the room. He knew it had great potential, but was still going to be a hell of a task, if she _did_ take it. It seemed that the windows had really caught her interest. That was what he was hoping caught her, seeing they were all the original glass and frames, made twenty years after the house had been built.

When she looked up, she saw the rafters, high beams of golden wood. Clean, with no dust, nests, or birds in sight. These she would keep. There was no point in hiding beauty with a plain white ceiling. Maybe she could even install speakers and white crystal Christmas lights. They really opened the room, giving in an airy feel. There were so many possibilities stuffed into the room.

"I'll need supplies. She turned around to face Artemis. "Lots of cleaning chemicals, organic, if you can get them, and drywall. Maybe some lumber to make a divider. "

Artemis nodded. "Do you want a copy of the blue prints and out original refurbishing plan? Or contact with the construction staff leader, he might have some warnings."

"That'd be great. It's perfect. I can personalize it more this way. Thank you."

"Butler and Juliet can help." He reminded her. "If you so wish, we could hire a team to do the heavier stuff."

She nodded. "Now that's in order: how much?"

"Well, your budget is nearly endless, and we have most of the tools you'll need, though you might rent a few, and as long as it's in reason you can go all out."

"No. "Tara said impatiently. " How much do I need to pitch in?"

Artemis blinked. "Nothing."

"But I _want_ to."

"No, you're finishing the room. We'll pay for it all--no problem."

"I'll be-" she protested.

"The work and design will be more than enough. I mean, normally it would be twice as much with a private designer and construction team. You'll be outing it to good use, rather than just sitting there. You will save us money. It's free. Take it."

Tara just sighed, knowing it would be stupid too risk another fight. It would be helpful to her, and a service to him. Maybe she would fight when he started buy her jewels for the Opera, but not today. "_Pick your battles" _something her mother had said on the subject of marriage, and all other forms of relationships. Knowing how he could be such a drama queen over small things she gave in, not wanting another weekend of chaos.

"Alright." She said grudgingly.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The first thing she had to do was clean. Normally it would be planning, but she needed to get an idea of how it looked as a clean slate before she drew on it. Or rather, the blue print copies. Actual walls would help too. And a floor.

So she searched for Butler, begging for cleaning supplies. He reluctantly led her to a huge stock closet of clean materials. Grabbing the Mr. Sheen and Dettol along with brooms, mops, buckets and paper towels, she fled, spending the rest of the evening scrubbing floors. When told where his girlfriend was, Artemis snuck up to the attic, peering in to see her in old jeans, bandanna in her hair, singing along to a medley of Billy Joel, Charlotte Church, and Paul McCartney. He knew she had more of a physical work ethic than he ever had, but it still surprised him that was so willingly allowed herself sore knees and chapped hands.

The next week, he hardly saw her save for dinner and bedtime seeing as she was always cleaning or planning with paint chips and counter colours spread before her in a neat circle.

She didn't offer updates too often and he didn't ask. If Tara want his help in colour contrast she would ask, but that hardly happened. Artemis was surprised to find himself lonely. It was unlike him to miss company, but lately he had begun to seek Butler out, or snuck up to watch Tara quietly from the doorway (she never heard him, for the CD player was always blaring out something. God knows what, but _something_). It unnerved him that he had become so dependent on human companionship, _her_ companionship. It almost made him feel weak.

No matter. He had other business to attend to.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

You better beg for the next chapter, cause it is a big one!! 20 pages on paper, plus the extra five from my add-ins from typing. Two times the normal post. Not only is it long, but very important to the plot. After the next three, thing will be spicing up a lot, and not in the romance department. Now that classes are out, expect more regular updates.

I am truely sorry this took so long. But this next chapter will more than make uo for it, I swear.

Review, please!

**Dania**


	24. Unanswered, Childish, and Impossible

**What The Voices Say**

**Chapter 24-Unanswered, childish, and Impossible**

**Disclaimer-Artemis isn't mine**

**The wait is over! This is the chapter I've been waiting for-it was so much fun to write!Review please! I hope you like it!**

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Tara tossed her head back and shoved her feet onto her boyfriend's lap, while simultaneously flipping on her sunglasses. They were wide lenses with white frames to match her 60s inspired dress of pink, white, blush, and chocolate swirls.

"Rub." She commanded, reaching for the limeade that sat on the tray that lay beside her.

"Long day?" Artemis glanced up at her before turning back to the manila file in his hands. His own cool Early Grey sat on the side table, looking dull and brown in comparison to Tara's own spunky beverage.

"Very. Two walls finished, along with the last coat of topaz in the living area." She replied while fanning herself with the magazine she had brought out.

He raised a raven brow. "Topaz?"

"Yeah, a yellowy-golden colour. Warm." She dismissed.

"Metallic?"

Tara had the grace to look offended. "No, creamy satin… An _entire_ room in metallic? I'm not twelve, for god's sake. Or mental." She shook her glossy locks, causing a few to come loose from the stylish 'wump' on her head. " It's expensive, not to mention cheesy if used in excess. I thought I was suppose to be saving you money, Arty."

He shrugged, not caring. Money was, as he had already said, not an issue. "What are your accents? Topaz comes with many options."

"Hmm. I still don't know. I almost went with a deep red or midnight blue, but then I worried that it would make the room feel too heavy. I'm going for a light, airy, relaxed mood. Not all that dramatic."

Her boyfriend only nodded in response, and began kneading her foot absentmindedly while reading his file. Tara groaned and picked up a book. The next hour passed mostly in silence, save the occasional "a little to the left" or snort in disgust from Artemis' side as he read further into the thick, off-white, untitled folder. Sophia glanced at in once or twice, wondering at its contents, recalling a discussion from hours earlier.

When Tara had enough of the massage, she retracted her foot and peered at Artemis. He was in dress pants and a button-down, the rest of his suit having been ditched. Understandably, for it was a warm day. And he looked…good. Casual; more so than usual with him in his brisk Armani and ties day after day. Hair tousled by the wind, black and white of his pants and shirt playing off one another, blue eyes flickering across the pages before him.

_Blue eyes_. A shiver was sent up her spin. Today he had two blue eyes. Just like in the nightmare, which hadn't reoccurred, so far. But it still brought unhappy memories and reminders into focus.

_Will you be able to act if we fail? _

_Yes._

_Good. See that you are, Sophia. Murder is a tricky business._

'_Maybe he just wore contacts for those business meetings, like the one he had at noon. To keep people from asking why he had mismatched eyes now, when it wasn't like that when he was a child.' _She thought. They had noted the sudden colour change in photos, and Sophia had declared it was not possible for the colour change in such a short time; nor in such a dramatic way at his age, 15 at the time, from his missing years. It was obvious that the hazel wasn't from any contact, and the blue looked natural enough, but a shade or so off from the true blue eye.

Artemis himself looked up, flashing a brief smile.

"Looking at something interesting?" He asked and gestured to the book left long forgotten in her lap.

"Mmm-hmm." She replied, staring pointedly at him.

He gave a devious grin. "Really? Is it pretty, _cara_?"

"Maybe." Tara said vaguely, sighing tragically. "Pity, I can't tell. It's too covered-up."

"I could solve that problem."

Tara eyed him hungrily, sighing again. "Thanks, but I'd rather do that myself." She said in a serious tone.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Ow!"

"Sorry, stick." Artemis said sheepishly, pulling the twig from his girlfriend's auburn locks. He leaned back, propped up on his elbows. Tara sat on his lap, trying to untangle her hair. Seething in frustration she growled, "What is with you and my hair? If you're within two feet of it you have just got to touch it. I mean, for god's sake man, its just _hair_! It's almost as if you've never seen the stuff before."

Artemis ran a hand though his own head of unkempt hair. "I like the colour." He explained. "And it's long. Its just…" He drifted off grinning, for the moment looking for all the world like any other infatuated young man, not a genius businessman, not the Great Artemis Fowl II.

"Crows also like the colour." Tara rolled her eyes. "And they say I'm supposed to be the twitchy one." She muttered. He laughed, still joyful, unusually so for him. _He's not acting forty for once. _

"You are the sneaky one, Darling."

"Thank you. I'd rather be sneaky than horrendously beautiful and worth a few million."

He laughed again as he lunged and successfully pinned her to the ground. "A few billion, actually, _bella_." He revised, smiling down at her.

Tara scowled. "Whatever. Get off."

Artemis just leaned down, kissing her forehead gently. "I'd rather not."

"Good God, haven't you had enough?" She shoved at his chest, standing and brushing off her back. "I'm going for a walk. I hurt." She winced. There'd been no sex, but they spent their time well nonetheless. And in a way that was painful to experience on the ground.

"May I?"

She shrugged, not really caring either way. She'd wanted some silence to think, but didn't necessarily want to be rude in refusing. It was his house too, how ill manner would that be? That's why she had private rooms, after all.

They strode down the garden paths, chatting lightly about biology and the beauty of nature in general. When they reached the gravel maze circle Artemis dropped out of the conversation, leaving Tara talking softy. She noted it immediately, and was put to playing around with him, making some audacious and appalling remarks about evolution that belittle Artemis' own view on the subject matter.

"So I think that the apes--What?" She finally asked, irritated. He had been staring at her now for longer than considered normal, even for him.

Wordlessly, he led her from the ending arches of the maze to the fountain pavilion. She sat by the water's edge, staring. Nervously, Artemis paced before her, massaging his temples, a habit she found endearing. Abruptly he stopped, halting in mid-turn.

"I would give anything." He said quietly. Tara simply sat, rooted, unable to believe this. _Holy Crap…not today…_ "You are my best friend, my confidant, my savior, I-"

He broke off, running his fingers through his hair, exasperated at his inability to describe his emotions, one of his greater weaknesses.

"Do you remember our second date?" He asked suddenly, looking up. "What we spoke about?"

Tara bit her lip, wondering where this was going. "Yes."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_He raised his eyebrows, though there was no surprise. Well. She wasn't stupid. _

_The woman across from him leaned back in her seat, an unreadable expression on her face. Her question had hit the mark, but she wasn't aiming for his hoop; she just wanted the answer, and she had gotten it. Satisfaction pulsed through her. Now maybe she'd find out if this wasn't a waste after all._

"_Yes." He answered slowly. "They did. As the only one, you are expected. The perfect match. They have too much faith in me." _

"I'll say." _Rage boiled deep inside her. They had not expected it to be that severe. Still, she had time to bail…"_no"_. This marvelous, foolproof plan of her sister's was getting more and more complicated. _"Sasha should have done this."

"Would you want her in the line of fire, in your place?" 

_Tara gazed calmly back at the young millionaire. There was no going back. She was far past the point of no return. _

"_Would you be willing…" He wasn't going to say it, ask it aloud._

"_Yes." She said, poised, ready. _

"_You know what this entails?" _

"_Better than anyone." _

"_It's a sacrifice." _

"_I know." Tara said, bored. "But who knows, maybe it'll end up all right and we'll grow on each other." _

_Artemis looked at her pityingly. "Maybe." He said with false hope. "You can always get out if it becomes too much." _

Right. So you think._ She nodded. "I won't. This is too important. Not until the end." _

"_You are willing to act it? Lying like that." _

"_Yes." _

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"I've lied." He whispered. "You were more than that. You've always been more than that. I wasn't pretending. These last months, I've meant it. You're not just some act for my parents. Forget about the deal, forget about what my parents expect. I don't want acting. I like this." He gestured to the space between them.

"I love you. I've got to stop the games." He put a hand on her shoulders, and used the other to force her chin up so he could meet her eyes. "Now please tell me." He said softly. " Were you acting?"

"Artemis-" She gasped. "I-this is--wait!"

He immediately dropped his hands, spun around back to the path. Her calls were ignored, and she was so weak-kneed there was no way she could run after him,

'_Talk about overreacting.'_ Her logical, attitude-dominated side; the only part still in motion said. Then, with nothing left to do, the rest of Tara collapsed to her knees, wrenching up sobs. The shock was too much, both from his sudden departure and abrupt announcement. Being a feminist, and being in love for the first time, Tara now understood how women were sometimes mistaken to be clingy. With men like Artemis being all touchy-feely and PMS it was no wonder.

Her arms clutched her ribs, trying to hold herself. There was absolutely no point in following him. He wouldn't hear her out. "_Wimp." _Better let him cool off. Though with her luck, she's probably return with all of her stuff on the front lawn.

Her sorrow and bawling wasn't worth it really. He was the fool here. Still, his expression, hurt and pain…had struck her. She didn't like his grief one bit, taking no pleasure in it, as Sasha would have.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

After while he sat down, or rather; collapsed. Concentration was the only think keeping her cries from his mind. Cold washed over him, the feeling he had all the time before Holly and the People. She hadn't rejected him, had she? Why, why, why did he just get up and leave. She hated him now. He had been so stupid. _'She didn't even give an answer!' _He yelled to himself silently. _'She was in shock, of course, and you just get up and walk away!' _

He wanted to run, to find her, and stop her. But what would he say? If he went back now, what would happen? Surely she wouldn't just open her arms, welcoming him back? She wasn't stupid. She would be angry, disappointed, offended. Anything but _welcoming._

'_Damnit, you coward! Make it up as you go along!'_

She didn't say no. She hadn't answered. There was still hope.

"_Well, not after your childish display back there."_ The voice mocked. "_Stomping off, all huffy. My, my. It's no wonder she rejected you." _

His legs seemed to walk of their own accord, jogging back to the fountain. The sobbing wasn't there anymore, only bird calls. His blood pounded in his ears, loud and rhythmic. Surely she wouldn't…no, she was smart, nothing would…. Artemis sped up, paranoia giving him a rush of adrenaline. If anything had happened to her, it was his entire fault. _"Stupid, stupid Artemis." _He fumed. "_Should have given her a chance." _

She was not there. He searched the fountain garden perimeter and saw nothing. Reaching for his cell, a though hit him. He turned north, facing the woods. Tara loved nature. The gardens weren't real enough for her. If she were to go anywhere, it would be the forest, to hide from everyone until she calmed.

The only reason the back woods had not been torn out was that they held heritage. It was Artemis Sr.'s doing. In memory of his own father and the past Fowls, he had refused to destroy the family hunting grounds. From a very young age, Artemis II had sworn to keep the lands untouched, and to insure his own children swore to the same. And he intended to uphold that promise. He had never really been around the wood; as a child he wasn't the outdoorsy type, and as he became older work occupied more and more of his time, and to him, and afternoon in the back wood was torment. Besides, he had no time to wander the strips of wilderness on the Fowl Properties.

He was regretting this as he made his path around the fallen logs, and dodged low-lying branches. Tripping over vines, jumping rocks, he made a lot of noise. After nearly thirty minutes of searching without success, he phoned Butler.

"I need the GPS for Tara's cell. He snapped into the phone. "Do not call it. I just want a map of her position."

Butler complied without comment. "She's in the woods behind the gardens." He said, unable to hide his surprise. "Where are you?"

"The same damned place." Artemis said dryly. "Could you send me her location?"

Ten seconds later a map of the area popped up on his cell's screen, complete with a red dot for her location and a green one for his. She wasn't that far away, maybe a quarter of a mile from where he stood. It would be a longer walk than that with all the detours and such, though. Using the map and the built-in compass, he walked to a clearing, the farther edge of which lay a small stream and outcropping of rocks.

Tara lay across a fallen log that hung a half-meter or less over the water, her hand hanging lazily into the water. She lay face down, her head resting on the other arm, hair flung about. She must have been asleep or meditating, for she did not appear to notice Artemis' loud arrival. He crossed the clearing in a few long strides and scrambled onto a boulder beside her tree.

"Why are you here?" She asked quietly, eyes still closed. _Okay, scratch sleep or meditation. _

Artemis swallowed. "I was worried."

She snorted. "Good for you."

"I mean it."

"So do I."

"I am sorry, Tara."

"I know, or else you won't be here, you'd still be sulking." She still had not opened her eyes. _Like a child. _

"Will you forgive me?"

"Yes."

They sat listening to the roaring silence for the longest time. Artemis found it relaxing. The birdcalls, the wind shaking the leaves occasionally, the stream's quiet mumblings.

Hesitantly, he reached for Tara's hand. Her eyes flew open, and she blinked in the sudden light.

"I meant what I said." He began quietly. "And you deserve a chance to answer without interruption. Do you feel the same way I do?"

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

She stared at him, eyes serious. Sophia answered truthfully.

"Yes." Her eyes kept contact. "I never lied."

_At least not too much, just about my name, family, nationality, career…_

Artemis leaned in, kissing her. It was filled with relief, fear, joy, and passion. "I love you Tara Gavin." He whispered. "Will you marry me?"

And then Tara promptly fainted. She fell into the water, causing Artemis to grumble while he half carried the woman he loved back to his house, drenching himself and ruining a perfectly good pair of pants in the process.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The morning light blinded her momentarily. She had to blink several times before the splotches of colour cleared from her vision. Artemis sat calmly in an armchair beside the bed, with the curtains hangings moved aside to give a full, clear view of the resident of the bed, and he was examining his nails, a regular custom used to gyp who ever he was speaking to think that he was uninterested. The French doors were open; cool morning air pouring in as a gentle breeze.

Tara struggled to sit up, and then seeing that there was another occupant, collapsed back into the pillows. From the muffled sound, Artemis guessed she must have been screaming into her pillow. She sat again, asking blearily. "What day is it?"

"You've only been out 18 hours." He informed her, amused. His eyes had returned to their mismatched colours. "A full night's sleep and then some."

"I needed the sleep."

"I'll bet you did." He replied, smirking. Tara in turn, rolled her eyes. He really could be such a loser, teasing her all the time, making comments, smirking superiorly. Maybe it was the late puberty Sasha had mentioned something about. "_Dork."_

"Well." She sat up. "If you don't mind, I'd like to get dressed, and refresh myself, so-"

"Ah." Artemis raised a brow, his smirk disappearing, replaced by an aloof disinterest. "You'll find that I _do_ mind. Very much so. You see, you shall not be leaving this room, or in fact, your bed, until I receive my answer."

"To what?" Tara asked, true confusion in her voice and expression.

"Do you not recall?" His voice was amused, though his eyes darken. "It was an important question. Life altering."

"Everything is life-altering in some form." Tara said impatiently. "What was it?"

"I could argue that, but I'd rather have my answer. Soon, please. And no 'I'll sleep on it', either. You have slept."

"What possibly could you ask me that was so damn important and justified an answer moments after my arrival amongst the conscious?" Tara asked through gritted teeth. She wasn't ever a morning person. She was better after she'd had her coffee, which he was denying her. And even then she tended to get a little testy. _The little prick. By the gods…_

Artemis calmly fixed her with his eerie gaze, which caused many grown men to cower now that he was out of his teens and a successful businessman. She only stared back, unafraid and annoyed. He often tried this on her, with mixed results. Some days he only got annoyance, fierce will, or a bored playfulness that humored him and made silly faces. It was almost always a tie. Today she must have been drained, for after a minute she looked away.

"What is it, Artemis?" She moaned, rubbing her forehead and rumpling her hair in an attempt to fully wake up. "What is your great question?"

He turned to the open doors. It was midday. Warm air surrounded him. Summer breezes. They'd known each other for barely over a half-year. Normally he'd be calling himself crazy, deranged, but this just felt so naturally right. He was young, naïve, and very unready, and so happy, and so heartbroken. Minerva…it had never been like this. She was supposed to make him complete, everything said so, the signs read it like that, but she had instead ripped him apart. Time had passed. Life moved on. Tara came, things changed. There was no rebound.

Tara was anxious; he had been silent for a long time longer than normal, even for him. Whatever this question was, it was a serious one, extremely so if he'd had all night to think it over and now needed yet more time. She left him at his pondering, though wished he would hurry. _I really need to go. _

"Will you marry me?" His voice was hoarse and he hadn't turned back to face her.

"_Ah." _She thought_. "That's why you fainted." _

Minutes passed. Neither of them moved. Nothing was said. But if thoughts were aloud the room would be very thunderous indeed.

"_Why?!" _Tara screamed silently._" Why now? Why are you making me choose? I can't! I'm not ready!" _

The more numb part of her brain echoed with _"I should have foreseen this." _

"Artemis," She finally said softly. He didn't move, however she thought she heard the fainted sound of air being release slowly. "Artemis, please look at me." She commanded

He did and it was then that she noted his disheveled appearance. Winkled shirt, a bit of mud on the hem of his pants, a dead leaf clinging to his shoelace. He hadn't changed since he'd dragged her up from the woods. He must have sat up all night too, wanting his answer, worrying over her reaction and condition. She would've done the same in his place. Well, maybe not brutally attack a person after they've woken from a fainting spell. That was just a bit rude and insensitive.

The blue-and-hazel pair of eyes bore into her own, humorless, genuine, decided, determined, intense, serious, imploring and a thousand other things. She didn't blame him, her eyes probably reflect a few of those thing back. If only it weren't so difficult to begin.

"This is sudden." She started. "Not unwelcome, but surprising. But if it were simply that…things would be different. Artemis, I don't think I'm ready for this!"

"I am." He approached the bed, keeping eye contact all the way. "Why shouldn't we? If we wait, things could change, and not for the better."

Tara rolled her eyes, for the second time that day. "For god's sake, Artemis, we're just in our 20s! It's not like either of us are at great risk of heart failure any time soon." She closed her eyes, frustrated. "And your readiness isn't enough. It takes two to tango, Arty. If I say yes…. If I asked to elope off to France, would you agree?"

"No." He admitted. "My-"

"Have you even asked your parent?"

"Well, no-"

"Exactly." She fell back onto the pillows. "How would they react? I want something small, a private ceremony. What would your mother want? A huge party, with the rich and royal? I can't do the planning right now."

Artemis rubbed his temple, irritated that his serious intentions were being disparaged. "I don't want the big wedding, either. I don't need their approval. Tara, I don't _care _about any of that right now. I just want assurance that one day…one day we can have those problems. I want an answer, so stop stalling with your cold feet. If you want time I will give you it to you, I swear."

Tara raised an auburn brow. "I didn't expect you to catch on so soon. Maybe after the 'Arty-are-you-mad' part or the 'Is-this-all-about-sex' lecture, but certainly not before the feminist speech. You must really want an answer, huh?"

Growling, her boyfriend pounced on the bed, kissing her fiercely.

"Just give me a 'yes' or 'no'."

"How about a 'maybe'?" she asked weakly. Growling again Artemis pinned her to the mattress. "I said you wouldn't leave until I got an answer. Either a 'yes' or 'no' please." He said pleasantly.

"You know, it's things like this-" She gestured at his arms holding her shoulders to the mattress. "-that make me want to say 'no'. You have major control issues. And severe mood swings, might I add."

He just shrugged. "Control issues to you, determination to me. Persistence. "

"Whatever."

They didn't speak for another thirty minutes before Tara announced her need to use the bathroom. Artemis didn't move a centimeter simple sat with raised eyebrows, looking expectant.

"Well?" She demanded. Artemis smiled. She sounded much like he did when he was younger. Curt, aggressive. Whoever said woman matured earlier than men hadn't met Artemis Fowl.

"You know what I'm waiting for."

"Get off!" She yelled, shoving. He didn't budge. _Has he been working out? _She wondered, enraged.

"Give me what I ask."

"No."

"Then pee yourself."

"Damn you." Tara grumbled. "_Vaffanculo." _She knew if she was in real need, she could easily deck him, but was saving that for dire need. Like if she _really_ had to go to the bathroom. No way would Tara Gavin humiliate herself like that.

Ten minutes later she spoke again.

"Will you chain me to the bed?" She asked in a generally, bored-interested sort of tone. Another Artemis had used in his youth.

"On out honeymoon? No, that's too-" He started sweetly.

"Tonight, idiot. When you leave." She shuddered.

"I'm not planning on leaving. No, I'll stay right here if it takes that long." He said pleasantly.

"I hate you right now."

"It wouldn't be a problem if you answered the question, Tara."

"What if we made a deal?" Let me go to the bathroom, wash up and get dressed. You can run to the jewelry store, come back with a ring, and propose properly. Then I can lodge the article of said jewelry in your eye as I reject you. Sounds like fun right? "

"I'm not willing to wait that long. And I have just this hunch that you'd try to run away, or something equally ridiculous."

"Arse."

He didn't reply. Another thirty seven minutes sped by before she finally gave up.

"Fine. Fine then Artemis. You win!"

He kissed her lightly on the cheek. "I knew you would." He said, very arrogantly. He rolled off to sit on the side of the bed, facing her. Tara leaned in, keeping his eyes in her own. Serious and grave, she spoke slowly.

"The answer is," she paused for dramatic effect, "42."

Before he could move, she skipped off to the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it in the blink of an eye. Artemis could hear her giggles, though stifled by the thick maple door. Rolling his eyes, he slid off the comforter and proceeded to wait by the door. Not the bathroom door, but the twin black hand-carved ones leading to her Recreation room, the first place she'd look.

Indeed, when she poked her head out he was ready, grabbing her and dragging the squirming young woman to the couch, tickling her all the way, muttering about how immature she was. Not that she could reply, she was laughing so hard. She struggled to sit up, gasping. "Alright."

"No more jokes." He snapped." Stop acting so immature. I've waited long enough."

She sobered. He was right. It was very serious. If Tara said 'no' in the wrong way, then Sophia and Sasha's plan was eliminated. If she said yes, Sophia was bound temporarily longer, until an alternative was figured out. But saying 'yes' would cause more emotional damage to Artemis in the long run. The blow, when the time came, would hurt twice as much at that-Minerva-chick's had, and that would be a ton of hurt. That was one of the things she was trying, and failing, to prevent.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Her unintelligible answer tested his nerves even more. She'd even started mumbling again. Childish acts like this really made him wonder why he was asking her to marry him. Was the frustration worth it? Massaging his temple yet again that day, he said in a strained voice. "Please act your age, Tara. I've got no temper for games. What did you say?"

"Yes." Came the responding sigh.

Artemis' head shot up, staggered. Tara sat leaning back, hand behind her head, looking more than a little sulky that her tormenting had been cut short, examining the nails on her other hand, disinterested, to all the world, but Artemis could see that hand trembling ever-so-slightly.

"What?" He croaked, body stiffer than a board.

Tara sighed again, frustrated that her replies had to be repeated in thirds. When she opened her mouth to give the retort, she once again found her words sealed off by Artemis' own mouth. Rolling her eyes, (something they both had done a lot of today, considering it was only midday), she kissed back, cursing him in her head for being such a good kisser, and being so damn sexy.

In the end, one thought penetrated her happiness:

"_Sasha is going to kill me." _

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Aren't I kind? Two posted in one day, and they just rock! **

**To explain the itatlics: They (points to Tara/Sophia and Artemis/Dork) made and arrangement. The deal was she stayed and acted like she was head over heels. Then break it so Artemis can get on with his life and business. Nothing was scripted, so they weren't acting most of the time. This is solely suppose to be a business agreement, though as you can see that went out the window. It was mainly used as an excuse to have a bit of fun. Any questions? **

**Yes, it makes little to no sense. But it's the story. **

**Vaffanculo-F or F you in Italian, words I learned from Liz Gilbert in her "_Eat Pray Love" _book. Read it, it's good. **

**Cara-Sweetheart, something you call a loved one. Italian. They've used it before. And I like Italian. Liz says the word were picked for their beauty. I'm to lazy to explain right now, so read the book and you'll get the story. **

Review, please! Thank you, dear readers!

Dania, the Morbid Drama Queen


	25. Discoveries of Both Natures

**What the Voices Say**

Chapter 25-Discoveries Of Both Natures

This is the result of chapter 24. Hope you like

DISCLAIMER: Artemis is not mine. But Sophia and Sasha are. No touchy!!

Review!

Thanks for reading!

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Tara had finished another day's coat of topaz paint, ironically the gemstone that had introduced her to the big mess.

After a shower she sat behind the grand desk in the study/rec room, opening the day's mail. She got little correspondence, so the few letters and such were opened quickly. For all she knew, codes for help could be in the department store fliers. Today there was only a cell phone bill (fake, she only used that one to call restaurants in Israel or other far places. It was a prop, to be used only for the bill.), a letter from her "Aunt" Martha (written by Sasha. Having no family would seem suspicious, so there were occasional cards and letters from various family members-most were real people, only decades dead and going by their middle names) and finally an envelope from Sarah Gavin. One sheet of expensive, cream-colour, embossed with initials, paper with a sappy letter detailing how the garden was in full bloom. Sophia sharpened her eyes to make out the boldest letters-they were hardly to be noticed by anyone else, but Sophia had been trained by the same hand Sasha was and therefore the letters anagrammed to "_Call me_".

So she did just that, picking up the sleek black device and dialing the untraceable number to the cell her sister always kept on her person. Sophia had no doubt that if Artemis really wanted to, he could find that number easily. She knew that he occasionally eavesdropped via taps and bugs, but tried to make his kiddie maze a little harder. The poor boy needed some entertainment.

"Tara?" A curious voice asked in a lithe, light tone. They had arranged to use the pseudonyms when on that line, and every other as well, within in Manor walls. However, this cell was also a signal. If one sister called the other on it, while the other was known to be outside of the Manor, the aliases were to be used, and a danger of discovery (nicknamed DOD by Sasha) lay afoot.

"Sarah. I received your letter." Sophia replied in a falsely cheerful voice. "The garden sounds lovely. I should visit the house more often, I miss the snapdragons. –" There was no decent back yard, let alone garden. Sophia cast a guilty glance to the potted ferns that had slowly been turning brown throughout her stay. "-The grounds here are a beauty too, you should visit sometime as well!"

"Any reason for your call?" Sasha asked sweetly, though annoyance was pricking through. She preferred a blunter straight-to-it way of these chats. Sophia loved to pile jokes and insults into it.

"Not really, now that you mention it! But what the heck, let's do lunch!"

Thirty minutes later she sat in a café, the same little trendy one she had her first date (It really had been her first. Being an international thief and overall social hermit due to said career, there were not many chances to date. Not that there hadn't been invites. Plenty of, just no interest on her part. For a first time gold digger, she was good) with Artemis. She was sipping water when Sasha arrived. The teen skidded in, praising the gods for air conditioning and soda.

Sophia glared. "I was all set to leave. Timeliness is appreciated."

Sasha rolled her baby blues, use to such lectures. "I'm here and that's the point. Now, do you wish to talk? And nice hair." She said, eyeing the black layer cut that rested naturally on Sophia scalp. It added to the 'emo' look she was already pulling off, her natural pale skin glowing against the black and maroon of her outfit.

"Thanks." Sophia said. "I'm thinking of getting it cut like this, maybe less layer, with highlights, or in a lighter red for summer-"

Sasha cut her off, knowing it could take full hours for her sibling to discuss her auburn locks, her crowning glory. Though, no one else knew that. With so many people fawning over her hair, Sophia acted like it was a burden, which it could be at time, but in truth adored it. Not for the attention it brought her, a bad thing in her line of work but for its beauty that she could appreciate herself. The colour, fine threads of hair, the way it curled, waved or straighten with ease.

"News?"

"Yes." Sophia sighed. " But first: How are you, Sass? Are you feeding yourself? Are you on that dumb PC all day? Really, you should get out more, exercise. We've lived here for five years and you still haven't seen the parks! Get out some, please Sassy."

"I'm fine. I eat, I jog, I even go out of doors some days, okay?" Sasha said, disgruntled. "Enough about me, let's talk money. Or rather, gems. I've talked to our regular buyers, even the Arabian couple that bought the Egyptian artefacts. Nobody is interested. Apparently there is somethin' odd in its discovery. I've heard rumors of aliens and dinosaurs. But no one wants it. I suggest we make an offer to that Russian group we sold the Scarlyn pieces to; they always are buyin' stuff like that."

When Sasha used less 'g's in words ending in "ing" she was frustrated. Sophia knew she must have gone though hell and back looking for buyers. The only reason she wasn't talk to the Russian was out of fear; they were nearly last resort. Easily insulted, cheap, and picky, Sophia had to be cautious when dealing with them. She had saved her sister from their grasp only months ago when Sasha, with her big mouth, had insulted a foot solider. They had been so angry, just over the footman, a technical nobody. Still, they kept up business, seeing Sophia a noble, if not a little stupid.

"Where is it?"

"The rock? At the house."

"Sassy!" Sophia scolded. " It's not safe, therefore you are not safe. Take it to the Jeweler." She said sternly in reference to a guy with private lock box system that he rented out. It was safer than putting in a bank. No questions, no snooping. The perfect hidey-hole for the sisters' illegal artifacts and stole objects.

"Yeah, yeah. Anyhow, about your job…any progress?" Sasha asked, winking.

" A little." her sister admitted.

"Liar." Sasha grinned. "Still a virgin, eh Soph?" She teased.

"Sasha!" Sophia hissed, appalled.

The younger girl snickered. "I know you wouldn't. You're such a goodie-goodie. If it were me…" She drifted off, an evil glint in her eye.

"You're only 19!"

"Plu-eez." Sasha shook her head. "Get up with the times, Jane Austen. Hardly anyone keeps the belt on past 17."

Sophia shifted uncomfortably, wanting to change the subject very, very badly. They'd barely reached second base a month ago, so sex was way out of the picture. She wasn't even convinced that Artemis didn't still have his virginity intact. Sasha said he didn't, but he was just so shy about things like that…or at least, he had been. He was very enthusiastic about making out. But sex only came up once. He asked if she was still a virgin, and she answered truthfully, that yes, she was. She asked if he was, and if he planned to stay that way. Blushing, he had replied yes on both accounts, and slid out of the room silently (Well, almost. He knocked over a chair in his hurry.), face still tomato red.

"So what news?" she asked, sipping her coffee. Black, no creamer, sugar, or alcohol. Something to wake her up, even if the paint fumes had already done that twice over. Even in early June she had her coffee in the morning.

"He knows our names."

Sophia choked. Sasha reached over to pat her on the in one smooth rhythm. When she was done hacking up her lungs, Sophia sat back up, glaring and gasping. It was another minute before she could speak properly in full sentences, and not raspy gasps.

"Do not-" She growled. "-spring that crap on me right after I've eaten or drunken something."

Sasha shrugged, nonchalant, in a 'Whaddya-gonna-do-about-it?' manner and sipped her own tea. They had always found it comical that out of the two of them, Sasha who was affectionately referred to as "The American Chick" was the tea addict, while Sophia had a preference for coffee, she being the more Irish.

"How? How does he know? Sassy, we blacked out all the files. _Everything. _Burned all records, years ago!"

"I would guess that we missed one." The girl said quietly.

"No! We did not! You know as well as I that we didn't. You flew to India yourself for the five from '98!

How did he find them when nothing is left?!" At that moment she both hated and admired him. How did he get such information? Not even that Minerva girl he had been seeing had such a clean slate. Sure, she had nearly no photos in the public, but there were a few things of personal information out there.

"Are you sure?" Sasha asked still quiet.

Sophia estimated there were, maybe two "lost" files containing their info. Both were far out of Fowl's reach, she was sure. And she was positive he hadn't gotten his pale, manicure hands on them: her informants would have made contact by now if he had. Just in case, Sophia told Sasha to give the hired spies a call, just to check.

"What else does he know?" she demanded, spearing a cherry tomato so brutally that it sprayed juice across the plate and on her pants, dripping as she brought it to her lips, but she paid it no mind.

"Nothing as far as I can tell. Names, mostly."

"Whose names?" Sophia snapped. Names were far more important that he sister knew. A single name to bring down nations. Her father taught her that if anything was sacred, a name was. _" Give places, times, codes, but not names." _He said, looking her straight in the eyes. _"Names put families in danger. Children in danger. All but names if you can help it, lass." _Her father was noble more than anyone would ever know.

"Dad's. Our mailman's. Oh, and the Dali Lama's."

"Sassy." Sophia warned.

"Fine. Just Dad's. But that's useless."

"Why does he bother?" Sophia groaned. Ever since the pair had discovered Artemis' sudden interest of the De Beers topaz and search for its thieves, things had become difficult, to say the least. Their informant, a professional computer hacker, had found traces of Artemis' work on various web pages detailing the robbery, and other incidents that were oddly similar. No one in law enforcement had made any sort of connection, partly due to the great distance of the crimes, and partly because the similarities were far and few between. The hacker had confided in Sophia that he doubted it was solely Artemis' interest, rather a customer. Apparently, every so often Fowl got some wild goose chase of a case from some mystery company, always the same one. The informant guessed Fowl found his answer every time, since the company came back for more business. This didn't ease Sophia's fear any less. Someone was looking for them, and if it wasn't Fowl, then could it possibly be anyone _worse_ than Fowl? And either way you rolled the dice, Fowl was looking for them, whether independently, or for a client, he _was_ still looking.

"If I had known…" Sophia sighed. _If I had known he was looking for us then I wouldn't have walked right into his cage. _

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Three weeks after this event and 20 days after Sophia sold her soul, she sat at another café. Sasha, who was the one being demanded today, stirred her penne in Alfredo around, casting glances around occasionally, waiting for Sophia to get past the pleasantries and get on with the real problem.

60 minutes earlier her sister had stood at the threshold of the apartment out of breath and wet, for it was raining. Sasha was more than a little freaked. She hadn't even called, which wasn't like her character. Sure, she was the absent-minded artist, but she was traditionally polite in an Emily Post sort of way.

"Soph?" Sasha asked, concerned. "It's not even Wednesday. What's up?"

"Not here." Sophia managed to pant, beckoning her sister to follow. With umbrella in hand Sasha was led to a café, more artsy, less trendy then the last. Questions bubbled up inside her, but knew not to ask anything until her sibling was ready. When her sister got in one of those moods it was pointless.

"I have news." Sophia finally announced quietly.

Sasha's eyes snapped up. "What kind of news?" she asked, just as quiet and cautious.

"Not the good kind." Sophia fidgeted. Best be blunt. No beating around the bush.

That would just piss Sasha off even more. "I'm engaged."

"Oh." Sasha relaxed. "I worried you were going to say expecting. I'm not ready to be an auntie."

"I'm serious."

"As am I, darling. To Fowl, I presume?"

Sophia grimaced. "Yeah."

Sasha was amused. Any normal sister duo would have been disrupting the shop with high-pitched screams of joy. They were quiet discussing the engagement with obvious unhappiness, or at least, the future bride was. It was beyond normal. So blue it was orange. _So_ their family.

"Then what's the problem?" Sasha asked, still laughing inside.

"Besides the fact that I am to be chained by marriage? None, none at all!"

Sasha tilted her head. "Oh. I see the problem." She stated softly. "You love him."

Sophia sat, mouth agape. No words came out for a long time. Finally a few mangled sounds before:

"What. The. Hell."

"It makes sense." Her sister shrugged. "Perfect sense. So much alike. First guy you've really dated. Oh really." She said catching sight of her sister still open mouth. "It's not like it's impossible. You like him as a friend; you love him as a…lover." She made a face. "Whatever. Now, are you going to have to admit it."

"Yes." Sophia said miserably.

"I didn't expect this."

"Neither did I."

"I mean, I was guessing July, and a ring at least." she glanced disapprovingly at her sister's left hand.

"What, you mean the engagement? You expect me to-"

"Well, I was expecting both. Though sooner in your case, and later in the proposal. And no ring? Really, now!" Sasha openly scoffed.

"It's not set; his 'rents don't know." Sophia explained. "A band would be kinda obvious." She gazed at her sister, wonder unhidden. "What do I do?"

"Don't announce it publicly. That'll make the break more…you know. Public. And don't tell the rents. I do not want Angeline Fowl hunting us down. "

"I'm talking about the-" Sophia started. Then her eyes got wide. "No. Wait. You want me to go through with it anyways. Break it."

"Well, yeah." Sasha shrugged. "That's the plan. Part of the deal."

Sophia shook her head, unable to believe it. "But it will hurt him. That's inhumane, Sass."

Sasha laughed softly. "Oh darling. What ever are you going to do? Stay Tara Gavin all your life? Marry him? Have a family? Live a lie forever? Let him find out-for he will, you know. Eventually. Do you even think he loves you? It's all political. You know that. It was a job to him. Duty, not passion. And if you told him, do you expect welcome? For all the lies and nightmares to just fade? What can you do, Tara Gavin, but leave? And why not with a little something to support your new life in America?" She winked.

"No. It's cruel."

"That's life. And that's hypocritical. When I said you were similar, I meant it. Would you do the same thing to him if your places switched?"

"No."

"Right." Sasha laughed bitterly. "I tried to stop you from developing feelings, but looks like I failed. "

"I can't. How can you ask this? How can you expect… you know how I feel!"

"It's a crush." Sasha said with a wave of her hand.

"No, no it's not. He's my best friend! I may not want to, but I'll stay. For him. Take the money, leave us be." Sophia begged. "Don't make me do it. I would hurt so much. "

"I don't want the money!" Sasha groaned. "I want my sister to come with me to America after we finish this final job with no loose ends."

"I can't do it. I'm sorry." Sophia remained firm. "You can stay here with me, or go to America with whatever is left." She made her decision fast. "I am staying. I wish you would too. I do not want to lose you, believe me, I don't. But, he's my best friend."

"Who would kill you in heartbeat if he knew your name and real reason of interest." Sasha hissed, venom in each vowel. "I am your _sister_."

Sophia pulled back, surprised. _What? _Had her sister forgotten to take her medication?

"Your choice, Sasha." Sophia said sadly. Their family had always been making quick decisions. "You're not a minor. I can't control you. But I love you no matter what you do. Call me if you need anything, I'm here. " She started to rise from her chair.

"No!" Sasha whimpered, working her poor 'poor-little-me' act quite nicely. "I'm sorry Sophie, please stay."

Sophia lowered herself back into the chair.

"You're doing exactly what you promised you wouldn't."

"No, I'm not." Sophia protested.

"From where I'm standing you are."

"Sass, you understand that I will never abandon you. And that I'm already stuck between a rock and a hard place, thanks. Besides you said that if I wanted…he's my best friend. I'm asking you to stay. Be apart of this. He's wonderful…when he's not being a prick. Stay. Please."

"No." Sasha stood. "I'd love to, but America calls."

Sophia knew her sister was acting, but at least wasn't pitching a fit. Her quick calm made her sister a little nervous. _Mood swings? _

Then she looked. Really looked at her sister. _The years have left us._ Sasha was a young woman, not the sniffling teen she had been when they moved to Ireland. Scams and thefts made her cocky, foolhardy. _Dear lord, I'm leaving her to destruction, aren't I? _

"Are we at least on terms?"

Sasha gave a small, cheerless smile. "Yes, my dearest sister."

_Always quick to make up._

Sophia stood to hug her. "I love you." She whispered. "Never forget. Call me if you need help. Promise."

Sasha only nodded, distracted. Sophia stepped back, hardening her gaze.

"Burn the files, the photos…anything incriminating or suspicious. Sell the rock. Visit me. I'll come see you in about a week."

"Come to me in America."

Sophia smiled too, one similar to her sister's. Sasha wasn't stay. Typical. "I will."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Sasha sat alone in the foyer, crouched over a framed photo a little over ten years old. An orange bottle of pills sat on her lap, unopened. The moonlight illuminated the four faces. And Argentine-French blonde, an Irish rouge, and two children a pair of girls. One was tiny, pixy and blonde like her mother, with her Papa's squinted smile and freckles. The other, possibly the eldest by a few years was darker, with auburn hair and twinkling blue-green eyes so much like her fathers. His spirit was emanating on her, like a torch. Though her skin was pale, without the brown spots like her sibling, she was hinted olive.

It was taken years ago, on one of the rare times her father had been home. It was before they had to hide, before either of them knew what their training truly meant. Sophia was near 12, with Sasha trailing behind her at eight. By that time Sophie could speak at least 4 languages fluently. Sasha was struggling with Gaelic, for her father, having already mastered French and Spanish from their mother. Their Father was still favorite and working part-time for America. Sasha would do her best impress him with her progress. While he was full of praise, little unstable "Sassy" always felt he gave Sophia more regard. He watched her kicks and lock picking with warmer eyes.

Sasha now sat sinking into insanity slowly. Sophia, her beloved sister, whom she had looked up to forever, had abandoned her. For the "Great Artemis Fowl II". Rich little cuss.

_**She can't leave.**_

It's her life.

_**I am her life, not HIM.**_

But you're not-

_**NO! He is the one in wrong. He took her. **_

The reasonable side was crushed easily, leaving only madness, to take the wheel.

_**He will pay. She will too. **_

Sasha threw back her head, laughing manically, madly, hurling the bottle of medication out the open window.

It was one of many acts that led to her personal, full-on, forceful madness, though no one would find it for quite some time.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

I don't know if anyone caught the "Blue to Orange" thing. My art teacher claims orange is right across from blue on the colour wheel (I thought it was red! Silly me!) therefore blue's opposite so lately a I've been using "Well, that was so out of the blue it was orange." In her honor. It's mine, but you can use it. Maybe it'll spread across the nations, and I'll be known as the girl who coined the phrase!!

That would rock.

Anyhow, it's a little confusing. I'd like to remind you that Sasha has a mild case of schizophrenia, one that is controlled through medication. She has a pretty good hold on it, but this one was coming. Including the stress and complications of her problem, it was only a matter of time before she cracked.

**-Dania**


	26. Hamsa

I've just come to a conclusion! Artemis looks like the lead singer of Maroon 5, just paler, darker hair, clean-shaven, and with a deeper voice. And Irish. God, I love the voice on the audio books. If you haven't heard them, I suggest you going to the web site and listen to 5 minutes or so. It's possibly the hottest Irish voice EVER! Remember, folks, this is coming from an American living in Hicktown USA, anything European is beautiful to be. Well, not the unshaved legs. That's not pretty.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

When his fiancé came to him at one am with a blindfold and determined look in her eye, Artemis was scared. He had been up going over some last minute details on some speech he had to give at some ceremony. Tara was in her work clothes with red, puffy eyes, and the air of high excitement. Normally he'd be worried that she was up so early. Or rather, late. She liked her sleep. One in the morning was too early for her.

"It's done." She explained to his skeptical look. "My studio. I've finished."

They'd been engaged for a full month, it was now July. There hadn't been any ring, though Artemis was market. He couldn't find anything unique enough. Or so, as far as Tara knew.

Artemis reluctantly agreed to follow. All the way up Tara chattered about how she had to reorder fabric, install speaker, refinish tables, sand, et cetera. Judging from her perkiness, Artemis guessed she had made herself a cup of coffee before coming to fetch him. He would have forced her to sleep if she had arrived in his study tired and dull, dragging her to the bedroom himself, tucking her in, stroking her cheek, singing some Italian aria in a soft voice. "_It will take her hours to shake that off."_ He internally moaned. _"She'll be crashed all day." _

In recent weeks she had stayed up late working, and slept often. She avoided his office, taking a longer route around the door to get to her room, even if it wore her out. Knowing he would have scolded cause her to stay away. It took a lot of patients to deal with Artemis, and Tara just didn't have it now after having spent all day yelling at power tools and people on phones. They hadn't really spent all that much time together, either. _"We'll have to remedy that." _Oh, how he had missed her.

She stopped and turned. Artemis realized they had arrived. The huge dark cherry door stood before him, new and shiny and magical. Carved vines with springy leaves and flowers lined the edges, while in the smooth center a polished brass plaque read in a stylish calligraphy _"Studio"_. Tara caught his eye, nodding for him to open it himself. Placing his hand on the cool, polished, brass handle, he complied.

The first thing he noticed was the colour. It was a warm, golden topaz, accented with midnight blue that glowed. Then he noticed the room was smaller. Two dividers that were custom made stood, a foot off from across each other, making a doorway similar to that of a public bathroom without a door, making it to where you could see inside the next room, but barely. The dividers held art, books, and memorabilia. One the side that he currently stood the room was used as an entertainment station with a flat screen and media center, along with a stereo cabinet tucked into one corner.

A huge cream sectional sofa and armchair on top of the rug Artemis recognized from the basement storage pulled it together. Off to the side, in front of the right divider a bar stood, stained to match the door and baseboards, complete with wine glasses. In the left corner by the furthest divider a sculpture stood, a flat black colour, abstract, curving into nothingness that you only realized too late to mean something profound.

Tara crossed to the armchair, plopping herself down and swiveling to face him, still in the doorway. Taking her lead, Artemis followed, looking at the shelves. She had installed the shelves herself, painting the back a different colour than the wall, or lining it with mirrors in some random pattern, something she'd seen in a magazine. About two yard from the sculpture and the end of the shelves a niche in the wall broke up the wall. A mural, probably by Tara, illuminated by tiny lights on the arch of the overhead drywall. It was an Asian inspired image with swirls of smoky mist and mountains. Characters spelled out inspiring messages around it, almost like a frame, in many different alphabets. Written in Sanskrit "_Ham-sa"_ with "_I honor the divinity that resides within me" _under it in calligraphy. _Ham-sa _meaning "I am that" and the other referring to whatever talents one may own, and in case Tara's artistic mind and hands.

They were words to calm, words to infuse hope into a despairing mind. Perfect for his girlfriend when her creativity is low. Not spiritual in the religious way, but in the confident way. The way that opened your mind to possibilities.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

She was a little curious as to why Artemis had remained paused in front of her mural. Maybe he didn't like it. It was a little religious, something Artemis wasn't too keen on. It wasn't that he didn't like religion in general; he just didn't like it in his décor. Neither did Tara, but the Sanskrit word were ones she found stimulating to her creative mind.

He continued circling the room until he got to her chair, where he swooped down to playfully kiss her neck. Tara happily returned the favour, asking if he wanted to seek the studio part. Nodding he let her take his hand and pull him past the dividers.

The second room was a different colour, a cream similar to the couch. More neutral to accent any canvases she turned out. An orange wall to a blue toned abstract would look weird, so as a rule she only painted studios in the neutral whites. The back wall, old gray brick with arched medieval windows stayed as a reminder to where, exactly, the artist was. A down-to-earth message. The windows, beautiful, timeless, original glass and all were framed with sheer curtain, a deeper colour to the walls, floating in the midnight breezes.

A scrubbed wooden table with a more modern stainless steel counter with a sink capping the end to make an "L" with a short tail was the centerpiece. The foot-high ledge that had once gone around the perimeter was knocked out to be replaced with brick matching the back wall, including tan capstones, smooth to make seating. Cabinets lined the right wall, filled with supplies. A computer settled in one corner, along with an expensive printer and a wide selection of paper. Easels, five in total, antique, handcrafted too, all sat in a row, complete with blank white canvases.

Artemis once again walked around, examining every speck. Under normal circumstances Tara would have been nervous, but lack of sleep and a certain longing for her bed made her a little pre occupied. She leaned back in the computer chair she ordered custom, black leather with green corduroy trim, watching him intent, yet careless. She just wanted him to critique it quickly so she could go to bed.

Artemis, nearly done, looked up. He has been curious as to the source of light. High in the clean wooden rafter beams lights winked back at him. Spot lights, each at different altitudes. It was genius. Well, for her intellect, anyhow. In areas that were naturally bright, such as places near the windows, she'd put the lights higher, so the illumination would be duller. Looking closely, each light had a black device at their base, square and thick. It was a system invented by her to, at the click a remote, lower the light via nylon cord in said black device. In areas that she suddenly needed more light in, she could press a button and get it in a matter of seconds. Maybe she could even angle them too. He guessed she put dimmers in the media center, the kind you could soften to your liking with a switch. It was a nice touch for that theater look.

Finally he was done. He turned his piecing gaze back to Tara, crossing the gleaming hardwood floors in swift, measured footsteps. Yawning, Tara inquired after his reaction. _I'd better make this quick. _She looked like she was about to pass out at any moment, coffee or no, she was tired.

"It's exquisite." He answered quietly. "You did an excellent job. I know you did more than was required."

She shrugged. It wasn't like it had been some huge, boring project. She had been eager to start, happy to comply, welcoming the project with open arms and fresh cookies. Tara had been _bored_. This had been salvation, distracting and agreeably so. Sore back, aching knees, red puffy eyes….nothing compared to the sense of accomplishment that came with plugging in the electronics, the last task on the list, after she had swept, dusted, and polished everything one last time.

" Really." He insisted. "I love it. I almost wish I had chosen art as my career choice; however, the data showing most artists receive fame and money only after their dead really did not appeal to me. Any Da Vinci would be envious of a studio such as this."

Sighing which pleasure, Tara merely smiled, gesturing him to follow. They arrived at the bar, and she poured some wine, a bottle of '48 from Fowl estates in Italy. Raising her glass, she said softly "To the future."

Artemis nodded, raised his own glass, and sipped, watching her intently. She took a small drink herself, then looked up, meeting his eyes. Hers were unusually dark, wide, and nearly….terrified. _Of what? _

"Your eyes." Tara said quietly.

He turned round to the mirror hanging above the bar. Wide blue eyes met his. Two wide blue eyes. He had forgotten to remove his contact! It was so late he hadn't expected anyone to bother him. It was in because of a video conference he had at 11, but he's been so caught up in plans…Yes, he's accidentally kept it in before when with Tara, but he assumed she hadn't noticed, or didn't care.

"Yes?" He asked, voice a little cooler than previously.

She scowled, annoyed with his answer that did not exist. "Are they usually that colour, Artemis?"

"It depends."

"On?"

"My mood. They turn darker when I'm frustrated. And the same colour when I'm homicidal."

The joke was intended to relieve the sudden tension over his eye colour- _Silly thing to have stress over-_but only made things worse. Fear was now very apparent in Tara's body language, wide eyes, tighten joints, faster heart rate.

"They're contacts, Tara. I use them during business meetings." Best to tell the truth, it's be more obvious and comforting.

"Why?" Her body hadn't relaxed a hint, though she took some deep breaths she tried best to hide.

Bemused, he reached out to place a hand on her shoulder. She flinched, but allowed the action. Carefully, Artemis caressed her shoulder, trying to calm her. _Maybe it's the alcohol. _But she'd barely had a mouthful! _The coffee then? It's bad? _

"I had the same colour eyes when I was younger. Since most of my photos that are circulated through public media are take in the period to where I still had identical eyes, any business associates tend to be edgy when they see the colour change. It's just a contact. Nothing supernatural." He said easily, pulling her toward the couch. She shivered under his arms, still spooked.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm tired, it's late. Can I go to bed?"

_She shouldn't have asked. _He thought, entertain. She could have just left with a "good night" and he'd been unable to stop her. But now…

Instead of being grilled about what was bothering her, instead of being needlessly analyzed, Tara was surprised. Artemis sank to the floor on one knee, pulling a tiny black box out of one pocket.

"Tara-" He began, his voice soft, and confident, and shaky, and filled with worry, and joy, and admiration, and love, and hope and…and…

If he could have screamed curses to the sky he would have. But he didn't want to wake her.

Once again, she had passed out during a proposal. At least this time it had been exhaustion, and not shock. Or, so it appeared. He wouldn't really know until she awoke.

Walking to the brass intercom box beside the door, he wonder if this was how married life was really going to be…was she going to faint when told she was pregnant? When they reached their 25 anniversary? When he bought her the many expensive gifts he was already writing down in a big notebook labeled "TARA'S GIFT IDEAS"? At the very least, it would be eventful…something to tell the kids.

He pressed the button, instructed Juliet to aid him in carrying the future Mrs. Fowl downstairs, then proceed to fall back on to the spacious sectional with Tara. Juliet Butler said it would take her about 50 minutes to get up there, she was on a call with Butler and still doing rounds. Unlike her sibling, refused to stop everything for Artemis' whims even if it was "Important".

And for tonight, that suit the Fowl heir just fine.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The morning after found Tara in bed with a killer hangover and need for entertainment once again. The hangover was from the caffeine, not the wine. She had found out long ago that if she consumed great amounts she would have head ache the next day. If she had any right before she went to bed, it wasn't just a headache, but a sore neck. Seemingly related but unknown, it was custom.

The entertainment part was her realization that the studio was done. On the upside she could now paint. On the down, she was expected to be popping out masterpieces. Artemis, a gifted artist and forger himself, expected her to make thing worthy of a museum. Seeing as their personal ideas of quality art differed, Tara did not see happy times ahead when their conversation turned to her job. She thought that most of the new things seen in museums were crap, junk, or offensive to be call "Art". A slap in the face to the profession. _A pile of_ _garbage isn't something to be put on display._ She reasoned. _That's why is garbage, and that's why wealthy fools see it as "art". It's junk, junk that's been professionally arranged, and junk they can afford. A slap in the face to real artist and to people less better off who are smart enough to throw away trash._

So Sophia sat, pondering, doing her best to avoid the splintering pain in her skull. Looking for a distraction, she swept her view about the room. Her interest rested on a shelf near the back of the room, beside the closet, right of the French doors. In light footsteps, counting the seconds, Sophia crossed to the selected row, pulling out a large pink hard back by Meg Cabot, peering into the space left behind. Grinning, she removed a black book, dusty and untouched since its find about a month or two ago.

She flopped back down on to the comforter, opening to the back. It hadn't been open, not a single word read. People normally signed the last entry; she was looking for a name.

_-Today she left. Part of me had seen it coming, like one sees a fist moving toward their face, but neither ducks of grabs the hand to stop it. She left, trying to avoid me. Have we become so broken she'd leave without any farewell?—_

_-I'm in Italy now. Maybe I've come to terms with it. I can't tell, I haven't tried. The only way to know it to fall…again. How can I know if I am up for it? Perhaps this time I will not only fall, but stumble, make contact with the ground, and never get up to fall again…-_

Sophia dropped the book in a flash, recoiling, jumping from the bed as if it were a deadly snake, a cobra, striking, laughing at her. It was obvious now that the book was Artemis'. She hadn't expected it to be anyone's…anyone who was alive. An old, long dead Fowl wife maybe, but her fiancée's? If she had known…if she had known she would have never…

"_Oh get a grip!" _She scolded._ "You know you would have read it just the same, even a little! It's your nature, Sophia!" _

All the same, she returned the book to its place and left to the studio, opting to have some strong tea this morning instead of the usual Columbian blend.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Hours later, in the evening, Tara was somewhere off limits, once again doing something she shouldn't be doing.

Artemis' study. His _private_ study. The one she had been silently forbade to enter without permission.

Well, she needed that book! One on ancient Norse myth he'd told her about, the book he's found in Germany six years ago. And she had a surprise for Artemis. An old 1st edition of a book on relative space theory, written by an old mentor of Stephen Hawking. The information itself was way out of date, but the book was worth a lot, and a priceless sentimental addition to Artemis' collection; it was one of his first relative space books he'd ever read at the tender age of 7, and his favorite, even if it wasn't current.

She had been hanging around for nearly an hour in a little alcove that was made up of a shelf jetting out about 2 and half meters, hiding that corner from the rest of the room, save Artemis' desk, which was directly horizontal from it. Another shelf, disconnected from the others along the wall, stood dead center, creating a column with two entry points on either side. That made it so if Artemis was leaning back in his chair, he could see in easily. She planned to sit in one of the armchairs inside, and wait until he was distracted, then jump out. If it was obvious he was busy, or not in the mood to be surprised, a back door, one leading to a tiny spiral staircase, would be used the moment he was distracted.

So she waited. And waited…

Finally, as the last pink clouds of light disappeared from the horizon, Artemis arrived. With cup of Earl Grey in hand, in simply a dress shirt and pants, carrying a manila folder, he settled in his chair, looking expectant. After a few silent moments of nothing, he sighed and examined his nails, bored.

A sudden tap broke the reverie, coming from god knows where. From Tara's crouched position behind the largest chair in the alcove she couldn't see its source, but suspected it to be the door when Artemis call "Come in."

But the taps sounded like they were from force on glass, not wood. They could be from the window…? Somebody outside on the old oak?

Tara's musing was broken by Artemis greeting.

"Hello, Holly."

The girl froze. _Holly? _That was a woman's name…"_No!" _She reprimanded her over-active imagination. "_She's probably just an employee, or associate! Nothing more." _

Then why did he did he sound so happy to see this "Holly"? Tara shuddered. It sounded like some stupid stick model's name. She knew she wasn't exactly Vogue perfection, but…

"_**Stop!" **_She roared. "_Do you have so little confidence in him? He loves you!" _

"Artemis!" Holly greeted warmly. "Good to see you again. I'm afraid I bear bad news-"

That sounded friendly, not flirty and seductive. Like an old friend. Not—not that.

"One of the sisters is Tara? She's living under my roof? I know. Old news, Major."

She sank to the floor silently. _Oh. My. God. _This was worse than Artemis cheating on her. Far, far worse. How did he know? Why hadn't he killed her? Tortured her mercilessly? Holly, or who ever she worked for, must have been the ones looking. They were dead. _Dead. _

Sophia did not move. She listened, hoping to find a clue as to how he knew this.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**I am soooooo sorry this took so long. I was gone, and my beta had some emergencies. Unfortuantly, she had to quit. So chapter 25 was the last chapter with good grammar. Sorry, my darlings. **

**On the bright side, I am nearly completely done. Everything besides 39 and 40 is done, typed…just not edited. That's what I'm doing tonight. Expect everything up to 39 this next week. But I must warn you, school is starting on the 14th. Ah, who knows, I might get this sucker done by then!!**

**Sorry again. Please review. **

Dania


	27. At This Point in Time

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Holly Stood before the massive desk, nervous. Though, for once, it wasn't over the room's other occupant. She was maybe nine centimeters taller than the desk. Being in Fowl Manor made her feels small, more so than in other human dwellings. It was just so _big. _Everything was oversized to emphasize the family's wealth and power. And over sizing to a fairy was different than over sizing to a human.

The master of the house (and desk) was tall too. Nothing like his manservant. Artemis was slim, and fairly fit in comparison to what he had been in his early teen years. He could hold his own. After declaring that there would be no more dangerous missions, Butler suggested he take some defense lessons. "Sometimes that big brain be of no help to you, except maybe as a shield." The mudboy still couldn't whip Holly, but that wasn't the objective.

_Mudboy. _It had been a while since the term really applied to him, but "_Mudman"_ just didn't sound right. Artemis was still very much a boy, though he was aging rather quickly. Well, he was human. They were nearly the same age now, physically. He was nearing 24, and she was roughly 26, having just celebrated her 100th birthday two years ago. The years had flown. A decade ago Holly believed that humans were barely different than the dirty creatures they had spawned from, and the People would be able to hold them back from the ground for at least another millennia. How wrong she was.

"Artemis, I'm afraid I have some bad new." She began after the initial greetings subsided. "One of the sisters-"

"Is Tara. I know." The young man said, examining his fingernails, seemingly bored. His mouth pulled up on the corners. Obviously this was a great amusement to him. Ah, but tricking the People always was. "Old news, Major."

"Bu-wha-I…You!" She spluttered, sounding like Root for a brief moment. Artemis watched, pleased. Holly lost for words was a humorous sight, though not rare when she was in the presence of the Great Artemis Fowl II.

"How did you know? " She finally demanded. "Did you hack it again? Bug a helmet?" The returning smirk was the only reply she needed. " You knew all along, didn't you? It takes us months and here you had it! Was it before you met her, or when we came to you for help? Is that why she's here?"

"No, actually." He admitted. "I have known for a while. Though, not until after I met her, and shortly following your visit asking for aid.. She's here only because I want her to be. It has nothing to do with you."

"How did you know?"

"It was the fact they stole from De Beers, who is notorious for their diamonds. And their ruthless protection of them. About five years ago there was another theft, of one of the hardest diamond in the world. It was large, pricey, but not really expected to sell. When it occurred to me that the only thing sharp enough to cut through that glass was diamond I check for any stolen that night. The thieves could have created a power tool to saw through the case from one of De Beers's own stones. Nothing of that nature came up in the report, but a story about the Secret service agent we had found came up, talking about his knife, which had a device in the handle that acted as a motor to move the blade, causing friction-"

"I don't want the inner workings, just the summery." Holly interrupted.

Artemis glanced up, annoyed. He hated interruptions. "The device plans aren't easily found, his daughters have the only copies. I think they rebuilt the device, stole the diamond and waited to come back to De Beers. From what I've seen, most of their larcenies have been to companies with bad reputations, usually involving environmental things, unfair wages, or child slavery. It's seen as blackmail. De Beers would qualify with their requirements."

"Noble cause or not, they still have it. "

"Yes."

"Why haven't you stopped them? Contacted us?"

"I'm not done."

"What then?"

"The agent's, their father, was named Gavin Iver."

That rang a bell. Foaly had mentioned the spy. He was known for his brilliant work. But that wasn't what stopped Holly's breath.

"She's using her father's name?" Holly gasped. "Why? As-as revenge to you? _What did you do Artemis?"_

"Nothing, Holly. It's not the name, but whom she's related to. The famous spy. Foaly." The young man commanded. "Find the file containing the Iver information."

"Yessir." Came the centaur's quick reply, along with the clacking of keys coming from the speakers on Holly's helmet.

"Artemis." Holly said as they waited. "You're dating…I mean, this is so you. If anyone were to date the suspect…"

"She's not a bad person." Artemis said wearily. "They only take from the big operations who can more than spare it. They donate to good charities, most of the time over half of what they scored. They haven't hurt anyone. It was an accident. They didn't purposely get involved in the People like I did. It was a mistake."

Holly considered this. True, they were not dangerous in themselves, but with the topaz…

"Which one are you dating?"

"Sophia." The name was beautiful. Greek, meaning "wisdom". Perfect. It even went with his own name. The hunter and the wise one. A good combination, in his book.

"Yeah, I thought it was that one. She seemed your type." Holly murmured, still a bit sore that Artemis had beaten the LEP again in the information game.

Foaly spoke. "Gavin Iver. Killed in a mob he was trying to calm, though by a sniper in one of the surrounding buildings. That was nearly five years ago. Awarded with several million pounds by the Queen for service to the M15. He wasn't exclusively theirs, he hired himself out to both them and the CIA. Was in hiding for a while, then got back out, with only him and the kids, his wife died while they were still under. Left the girls a tidy sum, though that knife you were talking about disappeared when he hit the ground. His girls take after their father. They're very good at disguises. We have on record only 12 confirmed case, though about 20 more suspected. The gods know how many unexplained they've done as well."

Holly turned back to Artemis. "Yes. She's most certainly your type."

"Holly?" He said abruptly. "How do you ask someone to marry you?" Leaning back he retrieved the black box from his pocket flipping it open and eyeing its contents.

"How should I know?" Holly replied, distracted. "It was Trouble who asked. I didn't have the guts."

"You can stand to fly pieces of cheap tin on magma flares, yet you can't ask your boyfriend of a half decade to tie the knot?" He demanded.

"Yeah. Uh-huh."

"Holly?" Then he noticed her earpiece on and intent expression on her face, staring off into the distance, eyes wide. Lunging, he grabbed the second earpiece into time to hear Foaly say:

"Hey, Mudboy, I'll have you know those 'pieces of cheap tin' have saved your scrawny ass multiple times. Keep up the tech insults and I might not invite you to my wedding-"

"Not now Foaly! Focus on what you were saying—the thing about the force crew?"

Foaly must have switched on the speaker, thinking Artemis wasn't connected. The ego mantic centaur was now loud and clear.

"I was tellin' you that Birch sent a recon team up when he heard Sect 8 found the gem's keepers."

"Sophia." Artemis went pale.

"No, Mudboy, they're headed to the apartment."

"Are they on a no-fire order?"

"No, actually. They were told any means possible. Including mesmer."

"Idiot." Holly hissed. Birch was new blood, Arc Stool's nephew. Much like his uncle. New, inexperienced, an army-wannbe, all action no disciple, Holly was happy he wasn't anywhere near her, though he was Commander in Trouble's unit. Recon. Possibly the worst job the council could have given him. He took his Uncle's advice blindly, though there hadn't been any major issues. Yet.

Suddenly, the slam of a door broke her train of though. Holly's head snapped to the left, where the doors were, but nothing had changed. Meanwhile Artemis stood crossing to the niche to the right, what looked to be a reading space, blocked from Holly's view by bookcases.

She followed behind, and stopped abruptly at seeing the slim door, still reverberating from the force of the slam. Artemis flung it open with what must have been equal force, taking off down the stairs. He had seen a flash of orange hurrying down before him. _Sophia._

"SOPHIA!" He yelled, but there was no answer and no return. She was gone to save Sasha. He wouldn't catch her. Turning back around he passed Holly without a sound, racing to the intercom, barking for Juliet.

"_I don't care what you are doing, you need to stop her! Now! It's life or death, Juliet." _

He swung back round to face the fairy before him. "Holly, do this for me, head them off. Or get Sophia out of the way, bring her here." Artemis ordered. "Vinyaya will approve. Please."

"Of course."

"Hell yeah, she hates Birch, something about being-" The centaur started, not know what had just taken place.

"Just find a way to help, Foaly. Holly will fill you in."

"Right, Mudboy."

"What are the chance of them opening lethal fire?"

"Ah…likely. He sent rookies. Trigger happy ones. She's also got a bad chance at being subjected to mesmer, they've just juices up and are high to use their magic. And there have been recent cases…. "

"What Foaly?!"

"Birch is a human hater. Like Abbot, only stupider." The centaur explained. "He would do anything to kill one of you. Lately, cases of human suicide on a lot of Recon cases involving his unit. No one has been blamed, but the rates are up so much…it's only a matter of time before he's sack, Artemis. But not tonight."

"Holly, go!" Artemis roared. "Foaly, try to delay the pod."

"Yes, Bossman." Foaly muttered. It was like the old day, working for Root. _Temperamental bosses._ Was the centaur ever lucky?

Artemis went for the door. Maybe he could reach Sasha before the fairies could, before even Sophia. He could lure Sophia back to the Manor with her sibling. Unless she was greedy enough to try and save the rock.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**I am soooooo sorry this took so long. I was gone, and my beta had some emergencies. Unfortuantly, she had to quit. So chapter 25 was the last chapter with good grammar. Sorry, my darlings. **

**On the bright side, I am nearly completely done. Everything besides 39 and 40 is done, typed…just not edited. That's what I'm doing tonight. Expect everything up to 39 this next week. But I must warn you, school is starting on the 14th. Ah, who knows, I might get this sucker done by then!!**

**Sorry again. Please review. **

**Dania**


	28. Repeated Actions

The sleek black car sped down the lane at breakneck speed, breaching every limit twice fold. Pedestrians screamed curses, vehicles fled, and children strained their necks to see what they hoped was a woman having contractions in the back seat. Nobody was successful in retrieving the car's plate number or decent description of its occupants. Sophia didn't care. Didn't care that she had practically stolen this car, didn't care that her boyfriend (no, fiancée) would be mad, didn't care that she was breaking numerous laws (had that stopped her before?) didn't care that she was jumping into the crosshairs.

Obviously she was going. Why wouldn't she go? With the news that Sasha's life was at risk she left, not even trying to do so silently. She had heard Artemis call her, with her real name too. The news that he knew who she was, who her family was…well, shocking to put it mildly. He didn't know the plot, true, but he did know her identity. Surely it had occurred to him…the greatest thief in the world (right next to him, of course) just happens to attract the attention of one of Europe's richest men. Not to mention one of the youngest wealthy. Had he been so head-over-heels about her that he took leave of his sense? Or was she part of some grand plan of his?

Distracted, she didn't think any of this. She just drove, praying to a higher being, any higher being that her sister was safe. Maybe the "Fairies" hadn't gotten there yet, maybe she had time. The voice coming from the tiny black helmet on Artemis' desk had said she had time, hadn't it?

"Fairies". An odd name for a Secret Service, or mafia, or whatever they were. Fluffy. Was their leader an 8-year-old-girl? What could it stand for? "Federal-Association-Intelligence-Of-Righteous-Yuppies"? But she had no time to dwell on that now. _Focus._

An idea came to her and she flipped out the private cell, punching 2 on speed dial. She got the lithe, perky sound of Sasha's voice mail.

"_Hi, this is Sarah. I'm not here right now, probably gardening-" _A charming laugh, followed with "-_so please, just leave a message after the 'beep'. It's important to me. I'll return your call as soon as I can! Thanks a ton!" _Another laugh, obviously fake. "_Buh-bye." _

Finally she pulled up to the apartment. No lights were no. It was a neutral sign. Sasha could have been out shopping, or bar hopping perhaps. Or she could be in the back of a van, bloody and beaten, still being yelled at for the whereabouts of her sister. "_Artemis would never allow that. He isn't violent."_

Sophia would wait until something happen, when Sasha got home, then they would flee. She settled in for the wait when it happened.

A movement on the roof caught her eye. In a flash Sophia was out of the car, and on the front steps, looking up. There it was again. And arm waving over the edge. Not necessarily at her, but it was too coincidental for Sophia's taste. The hand had a golden watch on it…similar to the one Sasha had received from her sister that Christmas. Sophia unlocked the door, stepping in, calling out "Sass?" softly. No answer. Suspecting the worst, she slammed the door behind her and raced up the she stairs leading to the roof. Sasha did go up there often... she might have been catching a smoke, saw her sister and waved, though didn't call out cause she had the cigarette in her mouth.

The door was open ajar. Cool air flowed in, causing a draft. It was an unusually cool evening for late July. No sounds, save the distant traffic could be heard. Just as silently Sophia pushed open the door, stepping through fluidly.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Turn left." The pale young man commanded his blonde, pretty bodyguard. Today, under these circumstances, she was a bodyguard. Wordlessly, she complied.

"Holly. Updates?" He barked into his hand phone, thumb and pinky extended, ring twisted.

"No Artemis." She sighed. "Foaly is doing his best to highjack the system, Birch seems to have it blocked. And you know how that makes him feel." She grumbled. "All we know is that they are there."

"Faster." He said shortly to the bodyguard.

The moment he realized Tara--"_No, Sophia._" he quietly reminded himself--had left he ordered Juliet to get the car, any car. They had to stop her. Or, as the case now appeared to be, save her. Holly had been all set to go, however, Artemis burst her bubble with a firm refusal.

"You're too close to the due date."

"I'll be fine. It's not like there'll be any violence." She argued. "I shoot a few rounds, they wet their nappies, we grab the girls and leave."

Artemis rolled his eyes, whether at her pathetic lie or the fact that he was even having this conversation it was hard to tell. A firm threatening "no" shut the major up, as did the slam of the car's door in her face.

"Artemis?" Holly asked, sounding hesitant.

"What?"

"Well, I wondered…is she the type to fight back? Or is she more submissive?" You had to be to live with Artemis Fowl the second, didn't you? The type to fight, right?

"_Till the end." _He thought, surging with pride at the thought. His fighter. Willing to battle with him every single step of the way. _"Till the end."_

"Yes." He said flatly. Judging by Holly's tone, it wasn't a good thing in this situation.

"Oh." It was not a happy word. Artemis knew that it would only give the rookie Recon agents more reason to open fire. And set the guns to a fatal setting. _"If only Root were still here." _Artemis inwardly groaned. His fiancé's ability to defend herself was going to be her demise tonight.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Four little creatures and four large, high tech guns were already there. But it was not a dramatic scene. In fact, it was humorous. Almost. In a sick sort of way for Sophia

The four little humanoid creatures were flapping about, several on Sasha, who was flailing her limbs, making animal sounds. Squawking, roars, growls, hisses. Her baby blues, identical to Andreaya Iver's own pale eye, were bulging, red, mad, raging, the pupils enlarged, red blood vessels swelling. They were glazed over too, like she had been hypnotized. This wasn't Sasha. Well, it was, obviously, but she was _insane_. Crazy, nuts, wacko, mental…what had the little creatures done to her? No episode of her sister's schizophrenia had ever done this. She'd been insane, raging, but animal sounds? That'd never happened. Sophia refused to believe it was Sasha's doing. No. These…things…must be doing it.

One of the creatures had finally caught sight of her. It squeaked out some phrase in a language Sophia doubted she could pronounce, let alone understand. The others turned to her. They wore green suits out of some slick material, though of none she knew of. Grey helmets, similar to the one she had seen on Artemis' desk merely minutes ago. The one who had spoken and another started toward her. The other two stayed, keeping eye contact with her sister. _Are they…controlling her? With mind powers?_

"Don't move human, and nobody gets hurt." One called out in English. It was a strange, accented with unidentifiable origins, but English nonetheless. Were these things humans? Part of a mafia hiring little people? She'd never heard of it, but it certainly was possible. And in a way, a good idea. Shunned and teased, it would give the little people of the world a sense of unity. Still, it was a mob. With mind powers too. Or something of the sort.

"Please." The human snorted. "That cliché is millennia old."

And she pounced. Years of weight lifting, kickboxing, and martial arts were all focused on this moment. Sasha was in trouble; these little men were hurting her. It was Sophia's job, duty, really to protect her. If only she would stop being stupid and focus herself!

She kicked the shorter one, pinning him firmly to the ground with one foot. Taking advantage of his weakness, she grabbed the other and forced his head down onto his chest, pressing a pressure point behind he ear, temporarily disabling him. Then she threw him at the cluster still on Sass. The lovely crack the helmets made slamming together almost made her smile but there was work at hand.

It almost made her guilty, fighting such small people. They were a little helpless. But reprimands from an old friend, a blind woman in India came forth in her head. _Just because I'm different doesn't make me any less able._ That was shortly before the woman had decked her. Besides, these "Fairies" had guns. Sophia didn't. Fair.

She flashed to Sasha's side, ready to give aid.

But…but Sasha didn't do anything. Well, not anything helpful. She still ran around moving her arms, screaming out noises, that glazed-dazed look still in her eyes.

This didn't make sense. They were a team. She was suppose to give her sister a certain look and mischievous grin that clearly said _"Hey, no worries. We'll beat 'em! Losers. I'm ready, are you?"_ But the little men were out! They weren't controlling her anymore! What was going on? All logic (and Sci-fi marathon on LMC) told her their creepy mind-powers should be broken!

Maybe she _was_ going through an episode. _Shit._

"Sassy." Sophia called softly. "Calm down. We can do this."

The creatures were still out, thank God, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw one or two move, moaning.

"Sass. It's okay." She cooed. "When was the last time you took you meds, darling? Calm down, Sassy." It was like talking to an enraged horse. "Look at me, _cara__." _

The girl turned to her sibling, eyes like that of a tiger stalking prey. Narrow, cold. Sophia had the sinking feeling that her sister did not recognize her. _Well, duh!_ The young woman began to circle. Exactly like a tiger preparing to pounce on a wide-eyed deer. _Oh dear. _Sasha taunted her in every motion, ignoring the little creatures that were now getting up. She hissed a long, slow "Shsssssssss…." Keeping her gazing intently on Sophia. _Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit…._

"Sasha." Sophia said firmly. It had helped, on occasion, to bring her sister back to reality. Just talking. Staying with her. Massaging her forehead speaking to her in a firm, soft voice, telling her to snap out of it. Tonight, Sophia didn't dare touch her. "Calm down. Remember me. I'm your sister. Sophia. I love you. So much. Just calm down, darling." The circling continued. The hungry look remained. "Focus. Fight it."

Sasha roared in anger, falling to her knees. She was fighting! Tearing her fingers across her head, moaning, she fought.

"Easy, _cara._" Sophia pleaded. "You're okay. Please, come back, come back to me." She was breathless, all attention on the young blonde.

"Soph-" Sasha made a chocking sound, like she had just surfaced from under the sea, having swallowed a lungful of salty water. She was fighting battling whatever had such a hold on her sanity.

"That's right." Sophia coaxed. "Fight it, you can do it."

The expression on her sister's face was strained. "Soph."

"Yes. Yes!" Sophia begged, moving closer, sinking into a crouch close enough to clutch her sister's wrists. Sasha held Sophia's wrist as well. Sophia smiled. She noticed the two little men moving again, getting up, but she didn't make a single gesture to them. Knowing the struggle Sasha was having, not wanting her concentration broken by Sophia's sudden movement.

But in the end, it didn't work. Sasha couldn't break the walls holding her in, only slip through the cracks. She loosen her grip on Sophia's wrists, her eyes returned to the predatory gaze. She pulled back, fingers curling into claws, back slumping, teeth barred. Like an animal. Sophia didn't even try. It was too late. She knew now, there was only one thing. She had to stop the creatures. Then take out Sassy.

Swiftly, she moved to the pile of little men. They were up now, readjusting straps. _So unprofessional._ Some swift kicks, more pressure points put one down. The second was harder. Being smart enough to foresee her attack. He backed away from the group, weaving left and right.

"I'm not afraid to shoot, human." The creature said, supposedly in warning.

"And I'm not afraid to do this." She replied sweetly. With that she carelessly kick his legs out from under him mid weave, and the gun out of his tiny arms. Her foot rested on his throat, threatening to block air. She snatched the gun from the ground, another from his holster, pointing on down. "Why are you here?" She demanded. Behind her, Sasha had collapsed, screaming softly to herself. At least she wasn't stalking anyone.

"We were sent by our commander." The little man squeaked. Sophia raised a brow. "To retrieve a rock for the council. A t-t-tope…I forgot."

"A topaz?" That silly rock? What the…?

"Yes, that."

Pityingly, she looked down at him. "You should have just asked."

" Real-"

Seeing that Sasha was beginning to snap out of it, Sophia took the primrose path and knocked him out again. Maybe it could buy them time…or send "Fairy" reinforcements sooner. But now was time to go back to Sass. She turned back around to see her sister still wallowing, rather loudly now.

"Sassy?"

The howling girl looked up sharply. A growl escaped her lips. The mad look _still _wasn't gone. But the little creatures were out! It must really be a bad episode.

Before Sophia could devise any plan Sasha struck out, lunging for her sibling, rather like a viper. Sophia jumped. _Crap. _A decision must be made, and quickly. Fight, until she snapped out of it from sheer exhaustion or flight, with sibling in tow and out cold, to…somewhere. It all depended on Sasha.

This question was answer unconsciously by the defense stance Sophia arranged herself in, fists up. Gods, she was going to fight _Sassy. _Sure, as kids they "fought" to practice, but never dangerous, never to hurt one another. Still…she had to fix this. It was her fault, if she hadn't been so caught up in her dreams of romance she would have been able to regulate Sasha's medication intake. Surely, surely she could fix it. All was needed was one good it in a direct point to stop the chi flow. Then, after Sass was restrained, Sophia could break the "spell". Or give the poor girl at sedative. They kept a hearty stock in the medicine cabinet for occasions like this.

"Sass." She called in warning, raising her fists.

All she got in return was a savage sound, not unlike a dying rabbit. _Lovely noise._

"Fine." The young woman murmured.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

In a flurry of complicated movements Sophia proceeded to defend herself. Sasha held well. She easily kept her own. After all, she was taught by the best. One-on-one hand combat. Kickboxing. Martial Arts. Wrestling. Tai Chi. Basic pressure points. Kicks aimed at the neck and stomach, footwork to turn one's mind, eye contact when possible. Something Gavin had encouraged his girls to do when they knew their opponent, a strategy to predict moves. Since the Ivers knew each other's style better than their own, it was an even match. Sasha was actually the better, a natural fighter, but with her crazed mind the moves were blundering. With Sophia deliberately trying to not hurt her it was looking to be a long fight.

As Sasha threw another punch, Sophia barely dodged it, a black car pulled up to the curb on the street below. Neither girl noticed the pale young man step out, glance up, then jump back in shock. He slipped into the house without detection.

Sophia blacked again with the back of her arm. Sasha let out a growl, then dropped to all fours, circling. _Oh dear God!_ Instead of laughing like she would have on normal circumstances, Sophia attempted to hit a pressure point. She successfully pressed the one at a knee. Her sibling tried to push her off, but to no avail. So she just curled up into a ball.

The door to the roof was thrown open suddenly, with a force not equaling the opener. One of the little men sat up, apparently having revived from the bump on his head. "_Faker. _" Sophia thought.

Artemis stood in the doorway his eyes blue fire. Quickly, he scanned the scene before him, then barked out in Gnomish to the conscious elf. "_Release your mesmer now. I am Artemis Fowl, friend of the People." _The name alone was more than enough for reaction, as was the dialect.

"But-"

"_Now!" _Artemis roared. "Or shall I have the mudgirl Butler crush you? LEP or not, you are in violation of the Book, and council orders. Take it off."

"Yessir."

Minutes passed, yet there was no change in Sasha's behavior. Sophia kept her restrained, biting her lip in frustration.

"Why is there no change? " Artemis demanded, rounding on the little elf.

"We let go, sir!" The elf cowered. "Her mind is her own now! But she seems to want it this way.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Even if Sophia couldn't understand what they were saying, she suspected Artemis had ordered the "fairy" release Sasha. She wanted to tell him that it wasn't the little people, but her sister. Her sister was in some form of control, not a sane one, true, but it was her own mind. Somehow she couldn't get the words out.

"Sassy?" She asked gently. "Sass, come back."

Artemis' gaze snapped back to her. "An episode?"

"I think so."

There was only one option, then. On the handheld cell-radio he called Juliet.

"…and bring the darts." He advised.

Sophia's eyes grew wide. "Artemis, no--"

"It's the only way, Sophie!"

With her sister's attention turned, Sasha broke free. Sophia fell with an "ooph", but jumped to her feet momentarily. Sasha stood on the brick ledge of the building facing the back garden, facing the small assembly, looking more sane then she had all night.

"Sassy." Sophia coaxed. "It's alright…Artemis isn't going to hurt you…come here. You're fine."

Though her wide blue eyes were still mad looking, there was a lot more control in the way Sasha held herself. They were no longer looking at a beast, but Sasha Iver. The fairies just watched, Sophia pleaded, and Artemis looked on them all, wondering, "_Was it all an act?" _He knew what was coming next, and had no way to stop it.

"Sassy. We can work this out. Calm down, darling."

"No." Sasha was illusioning calm, though her voice shuddered a little, laced with an undercurrents of rage. "We can't. You're leaving." He voice had desperation in it now. "I can too."

"Sasha, no, I won't leave you. I'll—"

"PROMISE ME!"

"I promise." Sophia whispered, edging closer. "I will stay. Just, don't. Please don't."

_Mama would never forgive me. _

"Stop!" Sasha fumed. "Stop lying to me!"

"No! No, I'm not." She wanted look back at Artemis, pain breaking her heart. His expression would be heart-wrenching, to be sure. "We can go away. We'll work it out. I'll stay, really. Don't do this."

_Papa would be ashamed. _

"I will." Sasha said simply. She jumped into a freefall toward the earth.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**


	29. What We Say In the End

The cry of grief the girl gave as she plummeted toward the ground was heart stopping of all those who had the unfortune to hear it. Her sister's cry was also bad, worse even, for all agreed that Sasha Iver had wanted to die. Sophia ran to the edge, clutching at the brick where her other half had once stood, looking ready to jump herself.

"SASHA!" She screamed. Artemis was there in three steps, holding her back.

"No, Sophia."

"Let me go." She sobbed, pushing against him. He was surprisingly strong and steady. Had he been working out without her knowledge? "Please. I need—she—"

"Sophie." He said softly. "I'll take you. "

"No!" She threw herself from his arms at last, turning to the stairs. Relief flooded him; he had feared she wanted to jump. Silently, he followed her to the back garden, not noticing the incriminating evidence on the walls of the office they had to go through to reach the back door. Things that if he had noticed, he would have been very, very sad to see. Photos of him, obviously taken when he wasn't aware of it. Pictures of his family, Butler and Juliet, the house and grounds, floor plans, notes of points of entry…pictures of things under the Fowl fortune, antiques, artifacts, heirlooms, notes on where they were stored and how much they were worth. But Artemis didn't see any of this. His eyes stayed on his fiancé, and nothing more.

Sasha lay face down in a heap not to far from the garden shed. Sophia crouched down to the crumpled form. Turning it over gently she saw her sister still breathing. Barely, but she clung to life. Touching her chest carefully, Sasha suddenly cried out in pain. Broken ribs, collarbone, leg or two…one arm…three stories was a long, dangerous fall. Fatal. What she wanted.

"Sassy."

"Sophie." The girl smiled angelic, peaceful. "Sophie, love you." Her breath came out in rasps, slow and long.

Sophia pressed her sister's hand to her cheek. "I love you more than anything. I didn't lie." Her voice broke. "We'll go to America. I swear."

Screw Artemis. Screw the wedding. Screw the life she could have had, a happy one with him. Sasha mattered now. Why didn't she see that before?

Artemis' heart ripped in two. Nothing he could do now. His head throbbed. Nothing he could do now….

Sasha coughed up a shaky laugh." Don't swear, Soph." Their mother use to say that. "We both know it's too late for that. Scatter my ashes there, in Central Park."

"No." Sophia whispered. "No, it's never too late. Sass, don't give up. We can get through this. We've been through worse. This is _nothing._"

"Sophia. It's too late."

"No." Sophia said fiercely, holding back the stinging tears. Sasha didn't need to see that. Everything was _fine._

Don't argue with me. Dream of me in New York." Sasha closed her eyes, smiling, then opened them again. "I love you Soph-"

The raspy, sallow breaths slowly faded. The hand on Sophia's face went limp and cold. Nothing came. Nothing went. Silence stayed.

Sophia dropped her head. A light defeated sound that echoed seemingly forever escaped. The tears freely fell, her sobs were silent, but her body shook violently. The pain filled her so much…so very, very much.

Hesitantly, Artemis stepped forward, placing his hand on her shoulder. Her own came over his, accepting the comfort. He sat down next to where she knelt. After a few minutes he gathered her into his arms where she cried, glad for the comfort. Her arms went around him, her head on his shoulder, and the rest curled in his lap. She needed this. Needed him now. It was the only thing left reliable. She had hurt him so much in the last hour. He must hate her, think her mad, believe she practically killed her own sister.

But nothing like that mattered. All she had was Artemis. In no way would she give that up too by asking questions, or talking at all. The moment mattered, nothing more.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Horror. Utter horror. That was it.

Sure, sadness, grief, confusion and all the others that came with it, but horror, causing pure shock, was all that filled her. Nothing really registered. Not Artemis' brutal vocal thrashing of the little men he called LEP, not Juliet's embrace and gentle words, not the fear of Artemis seeing the house's interior.

Sasha had done one last thing to damn her sister. Disobeying Sophia's order to remove the photos of Artemis and company, the plans and details was a death sentence for Sophia. She wondered if maybe Sasha had done it on purpose. It clearly condemned both of them, but with one dead, there was only one to punish. The bait.

However, the point was reverberating in Sophia's head that moment was not the above, but the following: Sasha was dead. Sasha had killed herself. And it was her fault. She should have seen that it was her fault. She should have seen that it wasn't the LEP, but an episode. She should have foreseen, if she hadn't been occupied with her fiancée. The one who was to murder her shortly. It was all her fault. Her sister was dead.

She blamed Sasha for her own actions, sure. Sasha had been the one to jump. But still, she couldn't deny her own actions.

"_Sasha is dead. Sasha is dead. Sassy died. Sasha killed herself…" _

Everything was gone. Mother, father, sister…soon her own life. Sophia was all that was left. The last Iver. And it was all her fault.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Why didn't you back down?" Artemis demanded. The corporal was quaking in his boots. This mudman was no house like the human Butler, but he was still large. And able, if he held the mudgirl back from the edge.

"Orders, Sir." The small elf squeaked. "Commander Birch said if the human were to attack us we were to-"

"Did your 'Commander' also tell you that you were dealing with a mentally unstable human?" Artemis spat.

The elf murmured something to the effect of "Well-aren't-you-all?"

The raven-haired mudman glared. "She wasn't able to restrain herself. She was bound to lash out. Your 'Commander'," He sneered. "should have known this, it was in her file. He was setting you up for murder. Section 4, page 258 in the Book. Your kind is not suppose to attack mentally unbalanced humans. Nor should be attacking any humans at all. You started this, not her. Now a girl is dead."

"M-murder?!" the elf sputtered. "But we hadn't-"

"That's how it would have looked. The killing of a mentally unstable without having first trying to tranquilize them? You all look like human haters now. He was going to let you hang." Artemis said coldly. " I suggest you return to LEP headquarters with Major Short; if you beg her enough she might testify for you." With that he turned and left, leaving the elf close to fainting. _What a mess._

The LEP should really exert more control over their petty officers. And interview their applicants more copious, restricting the human haters from any above-ground jaunts, particularly in Recon.

Juliet was with Tara, comforting her. They sat on the steps leading to the roof and upper floors. When he reached the landing above them, Juliet looked up. He motioned for her to follow him. Saying a few quick words to Tara, who nodded and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to keep the pieces together (Oh, his heart ached!), she left.

"What is it?" She wanted to get back to Tara. The poor thing needed help.

"Why haven't any of the neighbors heard anything?"

"Foaly said the Iver's already had their own sound barrier, a good one. And the LEP set up their own."

_More things pointing to it being planned. _

Artemis nodded. "How is she?"

"In shock. She hasn't cried in a while, but is still very …delicate. Is she really Sophia Iver?"

"Yes." Artemis glanced around. "Could you take her home? I'm going to send the rest of the LEP unit off and check out the house. See if I can locate the topaz. Just take her to her room, lock everything, even the door. I don't want her to hurt herself. Encourage her to sleep. Keep the camera on. I'll be there in an hour. I'll take a cab."

"Yes, Arty."

"Tell the LEP that are awake to follow you. Holly will take them down. It's a full moon, the others will get transport back soon. Tell Holly I'll call her later. And to be careful." He started toward the roof.

"Should I give her anything?"

He turned back to look at his fiancé.

"No. Wait until I talk to her, then we'll decide."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX


	30. What We Say in the End: Solutions

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The sound of the door being slammed and the click of the lock sliding back into place (where it had been for an hour and 13 minutes, 46 seconds) broke the daze Sophia was in, the dream she had began. It was Artemis. She stood up from the chaise lounge, where she had been looking out at the night sky wishing she could be out there to feel the evening breeze. But Juliet wouldn't let her. She was afraid Tara would attempt suicide. Maybe she would have. To avoid the coming events.

She turned only her head giving a profile view, the rest of her still facing the French doors. Her eyes were closed. This was expected.

Artemis stood, facing her. Silent, glaring, expressionless. What was expected. It was worse like this. She would have preferred yelling. Then she could have defended herself. In this silence, a silence she was use to, nothing was hidden. It showed her true self: the liar. The fool. The thief. Sasha's sister, and Sasha killer. Her hair fell into a curtain between them, hiding her face. Artemis crossed the room until he was parallel to her, eyes burning into her form.

On instinct she turned away, adrenaline slowly coming, offering some form of escape she didn't know. _No. _She moved to face him.

"Artemis."

"No." It came, cold and firm and low, with more force in it that Sophia had ever heard. She reached out in a "Nothing-to-hide-anymore" gesture.

"I am sorry." She said simply. What more was there to say?

It was one opening he had been waiting for. "I don't want to hear it."

"Then why did you come here?" She shot back. "You knew that's what you'd get."

"I did not."

"So you assume I'm heartless."

Silence.

"Artemis, I wasn't going to do it. I stepped out weeks ago, when you proposed."

_So you could have it all to yourself when you killed me?_

"Sasha was going to leave for America. We agreed. I was going to stay here with you. I lov-"

"Just." He said through gritted teeth. "Stop."

"No. I have to-"

"Do you not understand that you no longer have the right to speak? I won't listen." _You don't deserve even that._

"You're going to listen." Sophia said gently. "Because you want to. Artemis-"

Another opening. _Perfect._

"You lied, 'Sophia'." He pronounced her name in a long, cold way." The pseudonym I could take, the false life didn't hurt me. But you told me you _love _me_._ That you would _marry _me. Money didn't matter."

"I do love you-"

"When I learned that you were the eldest Iver girl, I though there was no problem. I was a thief once. I know they aren't bad people. You'd never hurt anyone. You were charitable. The things I saw in you…you reminded me of myself when I was young. But you were better. You had compassion. You did things I would never do…I wasn't brave enough, or humane enough to do. You were perfect." He paused, eyes fire. He had looked happy for a while, talking about her, but something reminded him what he was there for. "Of course, that was before you took up gold digging. Now I realize I was just the lucky first. Number one."

"No. Pleas-"

"Ms. Iver." He said mockingly, formally. He missed this. The cold power. Nothing had been like this since Holly's kidnapping. Sophia was bringing out the child in him…the child Artemis had once been. "I'm done. Don't try, seducing me won't work in your favour."

"I wasn't-" She began, outraged. _How dare he-_ But he cut across her smoothly.

"I'm not falling for that one again_. Love."_ He spit the word out with malice.

"Artemis! I know you have a right to be mad, but-"

"I have more than a right!" He yelled. "You were-"

"I told you, I had stepped out. It was Sasha! She did it without my knowledge."

"Then why all the plans, photos, and notes still in your house? On the counter, wall, in files clearly marked? I didn't offer enough? Or could you not stand being the quiet millionaire's wife, the unknown artist?"

_Ranting. Great. _He'd forgotten he was a _billionaire_. He was really, really _mad._

"Were you planning it soon? Or after the vows were you going to kill me."

"I-"

"Shut up, Tara!" He was shaking. All control, normalcy, icy perfection that was Artemis Fowl went out the window. She'd struck a nerve. Never had she seen him mad before. Disgruntled, annoyed, temperamental, sure, but mad? Pissed off? Never. And it was terrible. Worse, it was all directed toward her. Rightly so. "No, you're not Tara." He suddenly sounded much calmer, like some interest idea had just occurred to him. The way he continued to speak sounded mad. But calm and content in his new plan "I loved Tara. I don't know this Sophia girl. Who lies. Who is a murderer."

That was when Sophia, the girl who lied, the "murderer", slapped him for the first time ever. And it hurt a lot. Holly's hadn't hurt that bad. Holly hadn't broken his heart. He had forgotten what a good arm she had. How she wasn't afraid to put him in line, too. Well, had he really expected to just waltz in, insult her, hurt her without a little pain of his own in return? She must have though he was referring to her sister's all to recent death. But he wasn't. It was his own planned murder, not…that.

"Don't you dare say I killed my sister." Sophia whispered, shaking. She turned away, clutching at her sides to hold herself together. This was too many blows in one night. Couldn't he have waited until the morning?

When Artemis looked back on this event, he realized she lost hope. He also realized later, that was the moment she made up her mind to leave.

"You can call me a liar and a thief all you want, Artemis, it's true. But I did not kill my sister, nor was I planning to kill you, nor was I lying all those times I said 'I love you'. I do love you. If you can't get any of that through your thick skull, then leave me be." She said it all in a low, rushed voice, calm and pronounced. It was the only sentence she'd been able to say without interruption, and she was proud of herself. Slightly. Sophia wished she didn't have to say it at all. That he understood, believed, listened to her!

Artemis had by then recovered from her strike and was listening. One hand was on his cheek, pressing the spot she'd slapped. _Ow._

Tara moved to the window, trying desperately to hold it all in, almost failing. She was not going to cry, not going to allow Fowl that sight. _So he's "Fowl" again, Sophia?_ The voice asked.

_Yes._

The plan of escape was forming. It would be quick, soon. Tonight. As soon as Artemis left the packing would begin. Only one bag. Nothing here was Sophia Iver's.

He was calm again. The silence had eaten away most of the rage, leaving some hot white anger, but not much. Artemis was mad, be he was also ready. For it to work he need more time, and a better place, to think. Slowly he moved toward the door. _Sophia_-no, Tara, she would always be his Tara, soon she would be Tara and only Tara. The fairies would help him with that.

Tara didn't move or even notice his motions toward exit. She remained still, looking out at the stars. When his hand touched the doorknob he looked back.

" Do not leave this room."

"Wouldn't dream of it." She muttered, like a rebellious teen. The rebellious teen she was. He forgot sometimes, how young she really was. Too young. Just 21…nearly three years his junior, but so much more young emotionally.

"Be sure you don't. The camera is on. Juliet is watching." He said coldly like the merciless, heartless voice of her nightmares. She glanced up to meet his eyes. When the girl shuddered and Artemis felt guilty. But he left without a single word.

Artemis Fowl had two identical blue eyes tonight.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

He pressed his back to the door, sliding down till he made contact with the floor ending up in a sitting position. From inside there was a small sob. Quiet, shuddering, heartbreaking sob. The boy closed his eyes, repressing his own cry. Gods, nothing had hurt this much in a long time… Butler's close bush with death. Minerva. Not even Minerva. He at least suspected her departure. Tara hadn't even left. She was a few meters away, separated by a wall and her own invisible distance. Betrayal was worse than abandonment. In desertion you could at least still pretend the person loved you, they left you for your sake, perhaps. He knew Sophia loved him, somehow he knew that, but…

None of it would matter soon. In a short time the pain would fade. Things would return to normal. Better than normal. Perfect. He and Tara would marry, have their child, Artemis the Third, take trips to Italy, Egypt, Spain, Austria, celebrate their 25 anniversary… grow old together….

All he had to do was make her forget.

Artemis stayed for only five more minutes. He then left for the surveillance room where Juliet sat watching the drive and sipping a Coke. Upon taking one look at her charge's face, Juliet sensed a problem. The aloof expression was normally normal, but not in recent months, ever since Tara-or Sophia, whatever her name was-came to stay.

"Artemis?" The bodyguard asked. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." What a lie.

"How's Tar-I mean, Sophia? Did you get her tea, or something? Valerian?"

"Not yet."

Juliet noticed his short answers, not really unusual, but unexpected. She didn't mention it. He must be upset. "Don't give her any sleeping pills, Artemis. Sometimes it's just easier to cry about these thins. You can't sleep it off."

"I won't."

"Good." Juliet said, satisfied her friend would be okay. Now about her employer. "Do you need anything?"

A grunt. _Okay, back to Sophie. _

"Does Sophie?"

The use of her real name, used in such a casual way, shortened, even, hit Artemis in the stomach. _Sophie._ A dull pain rose in his chest. Would it always be like this when ever he heard her true name? He could not avoid it forever. Maybe in this house, but the outside world? There were a number of his employees at Fowl Industries with the same name. Would she react, after it was all over?

"Yes." He finally managed. His voice was still cold, without emotion. _Good._ "Activate the camera in her room. Watch the hall and door. Make sure she does not come out. If she tries to hurt herself, leave, or anything else out of the ordinary, alert me, quickly. Do not hesitate. Did you lock the windows like I told you?"

"Yes." She hesitated, then spoke again. "Artemis…is something wrong? I mean, you're a little…angsty. Did she say anything…bad?"

Artemis nodded, annoyed.

Juliet returned the nod, sympathy in her voice. "Oh, Arty. She's upset. Something terribly tragic just happened. Don't believe what she says right now. She really doesn't mean it.

"I won't. Bring her some tea. "

"Maybe you should-"

"Juliet." He growled. "I would prefer you brought her the damn drink. No questions, _employee._"

With that he slammed the door, leaving Juliet stunned. It had never been so cold between either of the Butlers and their charge. They had always been like family, friends at worst! Tara must have said something positively awful to get Artemis so mad. Reminding Juliet of her social position was the lowest of low things he could have done. It wasn't hurtful, just rude.

It was lucky he had left in a hurry. She would've decked him if he hadn't, sympathy or no.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

The knock on the door was quick, too quick. She'd barely began cutting.

"Hello?" She called faintly. It wasn't the blood loss, just the surprise. Or that's what she told herself. The sight of blood always did bother her.

"It's me." Juliet answered, her voice Irish honey. Comforting. Sophia was tempted to let her in. "I've brought tea. And a chat, if you want."

Very tempted.

And tea did sound nice…but what if it was laced with sleeping pills?

"Tar-sorry-Sophie?"

_So she knows my name. _

Sliding her cut arm wrapped in tissue under the comforter (thank the gods she started with her left one!) she called out "Come in!" in the general direction of the bed, and hid the dagger behind a pillow. This would screw up the plan, but it was a good-bye to her friend.

Juliet Butler entered, smiling, greeting brightly. Sophia smiled back half-heartedly.

"I hope you don't mind if I call you Sophie. I really like it. They both suit you, but if you're more use to Sophia…"

"I don't mind at all." She assured the perky blonde bodyguard. "That's what Sasha use to call me."

Juliet's smile shattered. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I-" She came over to sit on the edge of the bed.

"It's okay. I don't mind. It makes us…familiar." She assured Juliet.

"Here." Juliet handed her a mug. Sophia took it, eyeing it suspiciously. "Don't worry, it's clean. Nothing but raspberry leaves."

Her favorite kind. They had no sleeping properties, thank the gods. She remembered to keep her other arm covered, making look like she was propped up on it.

"I wanted to talk to you about Artemis."

Sophia nodded, taking a small sip. Juliet hadn't lied, it was clean. And warm and good. Perfect. Her mother always made tea when the girls were upset, it was a calming drink. The only time Sophie drank it was during a stressful, or perhaps, devastating time. Juliet must have the same philosophy.

"He was really upset after coming back from seeing you. Did you tell him anything?"

So he hadn't told her…she hadn't been watching. _Liar. _The cameras hadn't been on. Still, this was only a good thing. She could tell Juliet whatever she wanted. This was an unexpected plus.

"Only that I loved him." She paused. "He called me a murdered." She looked away for effect, pretending to hide tears. "H-he th-thinks it's m-my fault Sasha is de-dead."

Juliet was stunned. "Jerk." She said. Why would he do that? It wasn't in Artemis's character to say such things? But then again, tonight he had done a lot of unexpected things.

Sophia was happy to see her bait had been taken. But before she could pull in the whole thing was ruined.

"What's this?" Juliet asked, frowning at the dark red stain growing on the comforter. She tugged back the covers, pulling away the soaked tissue at the same time. And there it was. A dark red horizontal slash, neat, perfectly in the center, perfectly sliced, maybe four centimeters across. It oozed bright red slowly, dripping on the edges. Doubtlessly staining the sheets.

Juliet didn't scream, didn't faint, didn't scold, just coolly detached the radio from her belt.

"Artemis-"

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The tired young mad sank into his leather armchair. His head landed onto his folded arms simultaneously. He closed his eyes and gave a sigh. Suddenly, the sadness he had held back came out in a muffled sob. Now that he was alone it didn't matter. The cries shook his body, and he took satisfaction in not trying to hide or stop it.

"_Is this how normal people deal with pain?" _He wondered, not caring if he sounded too dramatic in his own mind. _"Or do they have someone to comfort them?" _

His parents would never know and "Sophie" would never care. Maybe if Tara had walked in on him like this she would have assessed the situation, either cheered him up or cried with him. Because, that's what she did.

It was then, when Artemis was weeping over his loss, that he realized he barely knew the woman he might soon call wife. Obviously most of the time she lying…but somehow he stilled loved her, whether she by Tara or Sophia or Aggie. It was like she had multiple personality disorder. And he only wanted one half, the half he loved.

Luckily, Artemis had a solution. Other men in his position didn't have this. It was risky. The chances of her agreement were nearly nothing. That was no obstacle. Artemis Fowl was not afraid to force her into the solution. After all, hadn't many of his forefathers forced some of his Great-great Grandmothers into loveless, or one-sided, marriages?

So he would make her forget. A simple mind wipe directed by him. She would awake in his arms, live in his house, be his fiancé. She would be Tara Gavin (soon to be Fowl) and only Tara. His. His Tara. She would never return to that brownstone, never visit her sister's grave (but he would host a funeral and allow Sophia the proper time to mourn.) and never be called "Sophie" again.

Really, she made it convenient for him. With no living family and no friends there would never be the chance of her being recognized. On a happier note, he took away any pain she would've continued feeling over her sister's death. That had to count for something. When she woke he could manipulate the situation so they could be more intimate in their relationship, without the awkwardness they would normally experience. And he could tell her he loved her again.

His Tara

The plans were interrupted by the crackling static of the radio. "_Artemis, I need you in here." _

He jumped to grab it. "Where are you?"

"_Sophia's bedroom. We have a problem." _

There was a huff of static. Somebody had sighed, presumably in disappointment that their plot was now wasted.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"What happened?"

"She cut herself."

"_What?_"

"It wasn't bad, she angled the blade wrong. There was hardly any blood loss. It was on the arm."

_Good, I got the angle right. Too bad they noticed._

"Why didn't you stop her?! It could've have been more than an arm by time you found it!"

_Doubtful _She didn't want to kill herself, just scare them, and say good-bye. Making them think she was unable worked in her favour.

"I was bringing her the tea! On the upside, she's tired now."

"From blood loss." She heard a snort. "Yeah. Great. Just watch her movement constantly from now on, understand? We'll discuss you inattentiveness and excuses later." The demanding voice was tight in barely-controlled rage.

Juliet left without a word. Sophia could imagine her flicking back her hair as way of farewell in a prissy manner. She hoped Juliet wouldn't get into to much trouble. It really wasn't her fault, she'd just picked the wrong time to deliver tea and comfort.

The door opened slowly, casting a thin beam of light across the floor. Artemis' silhouette paused, looking at her supposedly sleeping form. She let out a sigh. He moved to the bed, sitting on the edge gently. His pale hand caressed her face.

"Oh Sophia." He whispered. "I'm so sorry. I wish I could change this."

Then why don't you?

There was an uncertain laugh, then a shift. He held a black box…the one he had that night she'd shown him the studio!

"I was going to give this to you tonight." He confided. "But then Holly called. I expected it to be short…but look what happened. I was also going to tell you I knew who you really were. The plan was to tell you when I proposed, but that failed. I thought that maybe if you saw I didn't care, you'd stay."

It was undoubtedly a ring. An engagement ring.

He leaned down, kissing her cheek and pulling the comforter up around her, apparently feeling the goose bumps on her arm he was stoking that were caused by fear, not cold.

Before he closed the door, the whispered "I love you" confused Sophia and sent shivers down her back. No matter. It was either a lie or…or unknowing extension of the truth. He just felt fondness and possession. Like the "love" one would feel toward their pet gold fish. When she was sure he was gone, and the Juliet was bored of watching a black screen, the covers went off.

She turned to the door, but something caught her eye. The black box. He'd left it. Did he want her to put it on when she awoke? Did he know she was listening? Or did he forget it? Maybe he left it as a peace offering. Or maybe it was a trick. If she slipped it on she'd be chained to the house forever. He'd assume it was a sign that she, Sophia Iver, was selling her soul.

Shrugging, she attacked the task at hand.

Quickly she filled a backpack with fruit (knowing the distance to her apartment and having not eaten since five that evening), water, all her books and belongings, save everything he gave her (the expensive clothes, jewelry, et cetera).

She changed into some regular dark wash jeans, a t-shirt, jacket, and tennis shoes, pulling her hair into a ponytail and then into a hat. Something average, not flashy. Perfect. She could slip into crowds with this. Classic of a university student's wardrobe. _"Good things do come out of this age. Nobody but other people_ _your own age bother you."_

Looking around the room where so many hours of happiness had taken place, where recently a prison was founded, harsh words said, Sophia Iver regretted many things.

But she couldn't leave without…scooping up the black box. Cautiously, she open it, peeking in .

A beautiful ring, a slim band. White gold engraved with leaves. Custom, and perfect with a tiny diamond in the topmost leaf that stuck forward, pointing to her heart. Similar to a traditional Celtic ring. A secret engagement ring. To trick her, or his parents? She didn't want to…but it called to her. He knew her so well…the real her. It would be one material memory, if she was not to take anything else he'd given her.

Part slap in the face (for it was the most expense, rarest thing he's bought her) part loving farewell, she slipped it on her center finger. It fit like nothing had before.

_"This way if I flip him off, he'll see the band too and be twice offended!"_

Ignoring the pain, she crossed to the French doors, tugging the pack's straps on to her shoulders. Sophia threw the right window open, climbing out onto the ledge, and without a second glance proceeded to jump….

On to the roof that jetted out below.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**


	31. Damn the Media, What a Shame!

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

After having reached the ground, Sophia ran to the gates. It was a long run, but she made it before Juliet got to her bedroom. She was glad it was Juliet that here, not Butler, who was on vacation. Butler would have foreseen this, stopped her or caught her. Juliet, inexperienced, who was a friend and almost trusting, was much easier to slip away from. She had stuffed a note under the door, knowing the young bodyguard would expect a suicide note, and also knowing the bodyguard was a slow reader. She relied on some very simple, unreliable things, and an unpredictable woman.

Climbing the gates was hard, but two minutes of struggling was well worth it. She was home free. Not quite. Juliet was still looking for a body, but soon she'll have figured out Sophie walked away from that fall. But she would be compassionate enough to tell Artemis. To his face. That would just buy her even more time. Being a kind person could be most unhelpful sometimes.

So Sophia ran. How long, how far, she couldn't tell you. All she did was run. In to the forest, near the roads, anywhere as long as it wasn't near Fowl Manor or major roads. They'd think she'd hitchhike. Finally she made it to the residential part of Dublin, and to the apartment near 7:45. She took a longer route so as to confuse any possible followers. She was so happy to be home. It was so obvious Artemis would never suspect.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

She only dropped her stuff off, locked everything up, grabbed essentials, and left for a coffee bar eight blocks away. She was eager to hear the news. In the black wig, heavy eye makeup, and with a beauty mark above her lip Sophia looked like a poet getting ready for a slam. Good.

Sitting at the bar, chowing down on toast and a constant supply of coffee, acting like a normal person, it all felt very nice. Until the news cast blaring in the background brought her to reality.

"_And in today's bizarre new, the spook's scoop on residential Dublin. Unexplained sounds haunted the home of two young university women. Neighbors report that the screams and other unusual noises at an apartment in the Northwest side bothered them late last night around 10-12 o'clock. The occurrences are unexplained at this point and police could not get either of the residents were around for questions. We are, however, lucky to have and exclusive interview with one of the witnesses…" _

The story went on with one of her neighbors chatting up a reporter. They were outside of the apartment, around 5:00. The old woman spoke about how sweet Sophia and her sister were, that it might be ghost, et cetera. Sophia felt ill. And it wasn't the toast.

If she had been just two hours earlier, choosing to go straight home instead of wander to confuse the possible followers, she might have been on the city news right now. Artemis would have known exactly where she was. She was feeling a little light headed. _Oh God, that was close…_

Until the next newsreel, then she felt worse.

"_In other news, our special celebrity report team-" _

_"_Stalkers" more like it. They had interrupted a date or two before Tara had moved in with Artemis. They did there best to stick to him like flies to honey. It was lucky Butler had managed to catch the reporters and their film, or else Sophia's face would be all over the city by now. And that would be a way to keep a low profile. _Not. _People would be calling in to give her "name" (thousand of aliases, the news room would be in a flurry trying to find the real one) and the cover would be blown.

"_-has found some important bit of news regarding Ireland's own hot billion pound businessman, local legend Artemis Fowl, owner and CEO of Fowl Industries. He's looking for his fiancé! Remember that hot-head red head we told you about a few months ago folks? Well, they're finally planning to tie the knot!" _

She had been nicknamed the hot head when she tackled one obnoxious camera guy to Artemis' great amusement for taking a photo of them kissing. It stuck and the media loved it.

How did they know they'd been engaged?

"_Reports say she left late last night and hasn't been seen since. Master Fowl is very concerned. We ask that the public keep an eye out for Tara Gavin, who is a fiery red head, pale, with blue eyes, tall, and possibly under a delicates state of mind; recent unknown tragedy has struck her family so please, help us in bringing her home, and praying for her eventual return and safety. We here at the studio might tease, but Ms. Gavin is practically family to us."_

"_Remember folks," _The male news anchor said in all fake concern. "_Master Fowl donates millions to city charities each year, and is very active in our communities. Please, give a little back by bringing home his great love, Tara Gavin. Thank you." _

Sophia could not move, and she sure as hell couldn't breath. Artemis hadn't put the call for a search out himself, he wanted to keep a low profile about this. But everyone in Dublin would soon be looking for her. Every addict, every bounty hunter, every upper class snob, every scam artist…everyone, anyone who was a little short on cash these days. The anchors made it sound like Fowl was offering a cash reward. A bonus if she was in good condition. She knew well enough to know he would have never done such a thing; it was insulting and completely against his nature. He might have people out looking, his people, his connections, but never dangerous characters like bounty hunters and addicts. He didn't want her dead; at least, not unless he was the one to kill her.

"Are you alright?"

She looked up, scared witless. But it was just a motherly looking waitress, in a crisp white blouse and green polyester apron. The nametag said _"Mary"_.

"Y-yes. I'm quite fine, thank you." Sophia managed, clutching her collarbone, trying to keep her head. "Just a little shell-shocked. I'll take the bill now, please."

"Alright dear." Mary said kindly. As she was ringing up the pretty young lady's tab (she's be even prettier if she were to lay off the eye shadow and mascara!) she asked, casually, " How about that trouble with Master Fowl and his fiancé? Poor dear. They were in here a time or two, you know."

"Really?" Sophia of course knew this, but had forgotten. She'd convinced him to stop by here one morning before he dragged her away to town for some shopping. The food had almost made the entire trip worth it, even if the hours spent trying on Gucci and Parada were torture.

"Aye, that back booth." She nodded to the corner where they had indeed sat.

"What were they like?"

"Ah, so in love. Real sweet on each other. Master Fowl is lucky, normally he's such a stiff board! But this lass seems to have really loosened him up. The entire town was overjoyed when we heard he'd found another beau. He does so much good, just like his Da…they felt he deserved some back."

"What was she like?" It was dangerous, but she had to know. Did they approve of her as well?

"Oh, beautiful! A real sweetheart. Kind, loving, very gentle with Master Fowl. He's a little pushy-"

_You can say that again._

"-and she wouldn't take any of it! Very playful sort of girl. Good for him. He's never really been around lower society before, and she was raised in it! Now that they're engaged…!" Mary sighed, thinking a more perfect match was never made. "We all hope she'll come home safe. Poor dear. I wonder what the tragedy was."

Sophia nodded numbly. Now the good-doers would be searching too. Great.

"The only problem is the news description. They didn't give a detailed description of her, and what help is that? Many people have red hair! Many people are pale! More are tall! How are they going to find her with that, most people haven't ever seen her? They've never gotten a picture!"

Sophia shrugged. "I'm sure she'll wander home eventually. If it was really love…" She drifted off, wondering. If it was true love, something she'd never believe in, would she wander back to Fowl Manor? She looked down at her left hand, the middle finger where the ring sat.

Mary nodded sadly. "I'm sure you're right. Silly old me, I'm just worried….everybody loves Master Fowl, he's so kind…"

Sophia gave a sad smile. "She'll be okay. I'm sure in a few months you'll see them back in here, eating eggs and pancakes. Good-bye."

"Bye!" Mary called as Sophia walked out into the cool morning air.

Turning to the regular at the bar, Bill, she commented on the girls beauty, but how young people worn too much makeup these days.

"She reminded me of somebody, Bill." Mary said as she refilled his cup.

"Aye, she looked like the Gavin girl." Bill nodded. He too had been there that morning the young couple came in for a bite.

"Nonsense! She had black hair! The Gavin lady had long, curly auburn. Ginger, Bill. Not midnight."

"Girls change their hair colour and shape, Mar." Bill said mildly. "You can ring up my number now."

As they waited for the calculation, Mary asked curiously, "What made you say that? That she looked like the Gavin lass?"

Bill shrugged. "Her colouring. The shape of her face. The way she held herself. And she was very sad, Mar. I would imagine that Ms. Gavin, wherever she is, is very, very sad."

"Maybe." Mary said softly.

Bill glanced at his watch. "I've got to go. Master Fowl may not be in today, but still. It'd be better that I wasn't late."

"Have a good day, Bill." Mary called. "Don't let the man push you down!"

Bill chuckled and waved. When he got out side, he hailed the closest cab. To his surprise, it stopped. Slipping in, and not believing his fortune, he waved again.

"Fowl Industries, please." He said. "I'm a bit late."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Sasha's body wasn't there. She had not expected it to be. But it didn't matter. She had to leave. She couldn't stay for more than a week, and she couldn't use too much electricity, public transport, or leave the house to often. Sasha had bought food before she went mad. And there were boxes in the basement for such emergencies. Sasha had packed a lot of stuff. It wouldn't take long.

The plan was to ship everything transatlantic to the brownstone in New York. Their aunt had owned that one, but willed it to her sister, and in turn Andreaya passed it on to the girls. It was under their uncle's name, though by certain knowledge, it was known to Sophia that the uncle missing for the past 15 years was living in Bali. She contacted him one day three years back, and was informed that the house was all hers, free of charges.

"It's the least I could do for Eve and Andy." He said referring to his dead wife and sister-in-law. "They'd want it this way."

"Don't tell anyone, Uncle. Let's keep this between us. Da would be mad if he knew. " She hadn't told her uncle that her father was decesed, nor did she mention she had already bought the house being offered. It had been on the market because the previous ower failed to pay his taxes.

She'd have to leave a lot of stuff. Maybe a few boxes marked to certain neighbors? She could burn some too. And what about the cat?

_"There is that little girl down the block."_

Sophia had dropped Jewel off at the apartment for Sasha shortly after they arranged their paths. The poor creature was at the moment, huddled under the couch, frighten after last night's activities.

"You'll be lonely. And she's always liked America more. Take her with you."

"No, Soph, I'd hate to imagine you alone in that great big house."

"I'll have Juliet." Sophia said, pushing the carrier into Sasha's arms. "You'll be a whole ocean away."

Was she already planning her death? It was rather selfish. Did she know she'd ruin her sister's life? Is that why she hadn't destroyed anything? Then why the packed stuff? Trying to be helpful to her fleeing sister? Did she foresee it all?

Sophia shifted through a pile of dusty paper back novels, tossing the give-aways into a pile behind her. Keep. Give. Keep. Keep. Maybe. Give. Keep. Give. Another Maybe….

She paused. What was she doing? Her sister, best friend, and last living family member was dead, and here she was packing up to leave, throwing her sister's stuff away. It didn't feel right. She should be mourning.

"_Let the dead bury their dead". _A quote her father often used when speaking of his missions during the cold war. Comrades fell often, and there was little time to grieve them while you tried to save your own neck. _"There_ _is little you can do for them now, and they sure as hell won't thank you for it when you meet in the next life."_ Then he'd take Sophie's little hand in his own big, rough one. "_Neither will I, Soph. Don't forget it." _

She might not be under sniper fire right now, but she was in danger. Sasha would have to wait. Sophia could give her proper tribute in America.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

For the next three days Sophia packed. All night. All day. Music was on all the time. Shania Twain, Billy Joel, Classical, Opera, symphonic metal, Oldies, Beatles, a huge variety. It kept her mind off of recent events. And certain people.

So far he hadn't come breaking down her door. But it wouldn't have been a major catastrophe if he had. Still, she lived in constant fear that he would walk in at any moment.

In a way, death was welcome with nothing to look foreword to. She wasn't suicidal. Just…lonely. Maybe she would join the army when she got to New York. It'd be something. Better than moping all the time.

There were occasions when she thought of him. She wondered what he would've done with her if she hadn't escaped. It hadn't sounded like he was planning on killing her. Keep her under lock and key, maybe, but not murder. He had sounded possessive. Unwilling to let his pet out anymore. If he hadn't had the nerve to insult her, claim she was responsible for Sasha's untimely end, Sophia might have stayed. Life would be a blank, pointless hole. But she would be safe, protected. Doing some good. Somebody would've been happy.

It was better than some alternatives

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**


	32. To Think that I Left You Alone

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Butler was glad to be home. Two weeks off were very nice, though it was hardly relaxing. He was waited on hand and foot, read the latest Danielle Steel and Barbara Starr novels, and had plenty of free time. However, Artemis' question haunted him.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The young man had cornered the manservant while he was packing, choosing between a Sig Saur or a custom pistol he'd ordered as a birthday gift to himself. He was eager to try the pistol, but felt safer with the reliable Sig Saur on his holster. _Choices choices._

"How would one go about proposing?"

Butler glanced at the young man draped across the window seat, fiddling with a black box, looking out the window without really seeing anything. The position was too casual to suit Artemis' character, lying like that. The question was out of the ordinary as well.

"To a woman or to a business partner?"

Artemis rolled his eyes. "A woman."

"Which woman?"

"Tara."

Butler wasn't surprised in the least. The Gavin girl had made a big impact on his employer, a good one. Especially after the Minerva incident. Sometimes she was a bad influence, teasing him too much, acting immature. She was only 21. Did Artemis consider that?

"She's young." Was all the manservant finally said.

"Not that young."

"21 is very young. She's not as emotionally developed as you are, Artemis."

"We're not going to say the nuptials tomorrow, Butler." Artemis sighed. "Please stop with your objections. Just tell me how you would say it. I need help."

Artemis admitting he needed aid? That was a rarity. _He must really need help. _

"Have you asked your father?"

Another eye roll. "No. I would rather this stay between us. You know how Mother gets."

He could point out that Artemis Sr. might not necessarily tell Angeline, but understood Artemis' situation. He sighed. _Might as well tell him. Artemis is more than smart enough to deal with it, he'll wait if it's the right thing to do. _Somehow, Butler didn't believe himself.

"Be unique. Don't over do the ring, keep it simple. Ask it simply. First, explain that you love her, and be sure to ask her if she returns it. She might feel pressured to say yes so keep close watch. Talk about the future, but don't mention children."

Artemis nodded. "Thank you, old friend. This means a lot to me. I wonder…" He hesitated. "Do you…object?"

Butler thought over that. Did he? Aside from her obvious youth, and his general dislike of the girl, did he have any true objections? Artemis wasn't any lovesick fool, surely he could be trusted with this decision?

"No. I don't."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

He was home now. He could discuss this with his employer as a friend. There was a sinking feeling in his gut that Artemis had already asked. It wasn't that he didn't want his friend to be happy, just that he wanted him to think it through. So many young people of today rushed into things. The statistics of divorces proved that. Not that he though Artemis hadn't already looked at it from every angle. But it was a big step…he had to be sure. It was, after all, his job to protect his charge physically and emotionally.

"Dom!"

Butler looked up from the car's trunk to see his sister jogging down the path leading to the garage. He set down his suitcase, gave her a big hug and smile then proceeded with the customary questions.

"Juliet. Any trouble?"

Her face was answer enough. Serious, anxious, worried, nervous and relieved all in the face. Normal on his face, not hers.

"What happened?"

"Artemis-" Was all she managed to get out. The moment he heard that he was off up the path in a brisk, long pace, anger seeping into his once happy aura. _The girl. _If it was anything else the Fowls would have met him. They would have been her.

"What did she do?" He growled. Juliet trailed behind him, easily catching to his large stride.

"Nothing. Tara didn't do anything."

Butler glanced down at his sister incredulously. "Then what is it?"

"He got mad at her. She was…something happened, she knew somebody that was plotting against him. But she didn't know about it, she wasn't involved! Artemis got mad, wouldn't listen to her. Tara didn't take his crap, so she left. He locked her in the room, but she cut herself-"

"What?"

"Not to kill herself or anything, just to say good-bye. 30 minutes after we left, she was gone. Jumped out of the window. I thought she was dead. But she ran. Smart girl, she left a note to buy time. Artemis was devastated. He sent some men out, then locked himself in his rooms. He hasn't been out in…about three days. He's being very childish."

_I couldn't agree more. _

"Why didn't you tear down the door?"

"He was threatening to do something drastic. Maybe cut himself." She shrugged. "And he used the computer to block the phone lines. And of course I can't decode it."

"You know he's just bluffing."

"So you say." She huffed. "I can't tell. He sounded serious. He'll only listen to you, Dom. But he wouldn't let me call. Even the cells and radios were blocked! "

"When did you last check on him?"

"Twenty minutes ago. He couldn't get to the cameras, I managed to set up a wall."

Butler checked his watch. Artemis would've seen his car coming in the drive from his windows. He must have known Juliet would fill the manservant in.

_That door better be unlocked or open._

He made it to the hall in a record time. The door was closed and locked. Without any greeting or announcement, Butler slid his master key into the lock. It was the only one, save Artemis' own. He hadn't thought to leave it with Juliet. Next time it would be on the to-do list. Still without any form of greeting, he walked into Artemis' room.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

A raven head popped up from the desk in the center of the room. Butler was momentarily stunned. Artemis looked so messy. Tear-stained face, red eyes, dried snot under his nose, his white shirt half unbuttoned, and where it was buttoned it was off, creating an uneven end. The jacket part of the outfit was a few feet away on the floor in a heap. The windows were open, winds causing loose paper to have scattered across the floor. It was a little chilly. Artemis either didn't notice or care.

He wipe the runny nose on a shirt sleeve, ducked his head and went back to the pad of sketching paper in front of him.

Butler remained in the doorway, silent, imposing. Artemis didn't try to tell him to leave. He didn't move or react until Butler came into the room, standing before the desk. Finally, he spoke.

"She left." He said quietly, no looking up from the sketch.

"I can tell." Butler said dryly. "Why? Juliet skipped over some details."

The old bodyguard sank into an armchair as his friend wove the tale. What a long soap opera. Aliases, scheming sisters, lies, apologies, misunderstandings…Butler was disappointed when there was no illegitimate child.

"-I found these in her desk. " He tossed a pile of letters, written on an expensive, creamy paper, addressed to a Ms. Tara Gavin. "Some certain letters were slightly bold. A code. The key word was their cat's name." Butler looked over a few. Yes, some key letters were the slightest bit bolder, normal. But apparently this set used the bolds as codes. Smart. Not too elaborate, but simple. The average person bolded certain letters anyhow, it was fairly unnoticeable unless you looked for it.

"She though I'd kill her." He said quietly. "If I knew."

"Were you thinking about it?"

"No."

He kept reading. A line reminded him of something obvious. "Do you think these were left so you could find them?"

Artemis shrugged. "I don't know. Perhaps. They're not planted to sway me. They weren't written for that. " He returned to his drawing, the pencil's drag making light scratching sounds on the paper that were relaxing. Minutes passed before either spoke.

"I should have listened to her." That was Artemis. "I shouldn't have called her a murderer." He shook his head in self-disgust.

"Artemis, you made a mistake. You followed the evidence, found proof of treachery. Maybe you should have waited to accuse her, it was right after her sister's death. It wasn't completely your fault. She wasn't honest.

"She could have-"

"You were both in the wrong. Her for lying, you for accusations wrongly timed. Now you have to solve the problem. "

His employer nodded, appearing to be half dead.

"When was it you last slept?"

"Two days ago. For a little over 3 hours."

Butler stared at the young man. He obviously hadn't had any form of cleansing in that time, either. Still, unperturbed, he sat, drawing from memory. What, the girl?

"Artemis, everyone has break ups-"

"-and they might be terrible, yet everyone gets through them." The young genius mimicked without even looking up. "I know. And I did get over Minerva. But Tara isn't Minerva. I love _Tara_."

Butler understood. A long time ago, he'd had the same feelings. A long time ago he made a choice he almost regretted, but took back the moment he saw the young man before him. That was 23 years ago, and he still didn't regret it. Artemis was different. Artemis wasn't meant to be alone all of his life.

"Do you think you can fix it?"

"I don't know." He still hadn't looked up.

Ten minutes went by in more silence.

"What are you going to do?"

Artemis looked up finally. "What?"

"About the Gavin girl? Why are you not looking for her? Do you want the LEP to get to her first? I seems to me that if they got a hold of her-"

Artemis paled, something one would think physically impossible considering his current colour, which had been for years white. "The LEP. How could I have forgotten?" He moaned. _They'll mind wipe her! _"Butler, get me a phone please, I'll be in the study."

"You disconnected all of them."

A string of profanities flew from Artemis' mouth, some words even Butler had never heard. And with that that young genius left the room for the first time in days, muttering to himself like a madman.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**I had a question about Bill, the guy at the diner. He works as a higher up at Fowl Industries. He met Tara once or twice, but doesn't note details, so didn't really make the connection. I put him in the story to show just how close Sophia can and will get to being caught. Artemis practically owns the town. One little misstep in information she's screwed.**

**Oh, and my ducklings; How much do you want the next chapter? 'Cause, I feel like I'm spoling you, posting so much at once... **

**-Dania**


	33. Alliances In Haven

**We see the fairies in Haven for the first-and probably last-time. I'm introducing Lela Vinyaya. Enjoy. **

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Commander!" a sprite shouted to the Section 8 Commander, Lela Vinyáya, niece of Wing Commander Vinyaya, former Commander of Section 8. Similar in both temperment and the way they governed their units, she was the perfect choice for the job.

"What?" She snapped. The Commander was in her office, going over the recent case file with the still pregnant Major Short, while also having a nice girls' chatt in between. Holly needed some normality after her most recent surface trip.

"It's Artemis Fowl on line 3!" The young sprite quivered with excitement. Artemis' name was still a big one in the LEP, even if he hadn't made offical conntact in years. With occasisonal calls to Holly, he had kept his distance from the People.

"He wants to speak to you, and Major Short, if she's not having contractions."

Holly glared fiercly. If she hadn't been so fat, he'd be on the floor by now and crying for his Mommy. Only Foaly and Trouble could make such commments. Not some underling. The sprite shrugged, not even phased. On the outside. Even if she couldn't strangle him now, the chance would sure to arise later, when she returned from maternity leave.

"His words, not mine."

"I don't care who's they are. You shouldn't repeate them." She hissed. "When this thing is out of me…"

"How did he get into the system?" The Commander wondered aloud. Holly kept quiet. She _might_ have given him a code or two. He would have gotten in easily enough on his own, but complained. "_What if I had an emergency? I don't want to wait twenty minutes to hack in.." _He did have a point. "Ah, never mind, just put him on screen. Keep it private. And get Foaly to tape it. "

The Commander had previous dealings with Fowl. It was best to keep records just in case you make promises you didn't fully understand the undertaking of. When the pale human's face appeared on screen she allowed Holly to greet him first, even if she was her underling.

"Artemis, you could have called! No need to highjack the system. Poor Foaly will be working on new access codes for weeks."

"There wasn't time, Holly. Hello Commander." He was hurried and cold, brisk in his manner.

"Master Fowl." Lela inclined her head. "What do we own the…well, I won't lie and call it a pleasure. What do you want?"

"Polite as your Auntie, I see." He sneered slightly. "I have an arrangement I need seen to. And only one underground civilzation with the technology to sid me in this business. I'll be fast. Do you have the LEP looking for Sophia Iver?"

"It's not Section 8, but yes, Recon is out on it." The Commander answered without hesitation.

"Hmmm, this is easier than I expected. Are you still searching for the topaz? "

"Yes."

"Would you be willing to let someone outside of LEP search for you, without LEP intferrence, in exchange for two small things, one of which you were planning to do yourselves anyways?"

"Perhaps. What is it you seek?"

"A person. We are after the same things. Here is my offer. I find the girl who is causing you this headache. I get you the topaz, and in return the girl gets mind wiped. The condition is that I selcet the memories that are removed, along with the fairy ones you are interested in. The wipe is here at Fowl Manor. You've done it before. I want Foaly, two, maybe three of highly trusted techs. Within 24 hours of my finding her. They do the wipe, I give them the topaz. She stays with me.

"Everyone wins. Oh, and I do not want any LEP with in 20 kilometers of the city, Manor, or suburbs. Above or below ground. Not even Holly."

Holly opened her mouth to object, but Artemis cut her off.

"You're too close to the due date, other wise I'd have you up here in two hours. I'm sure your Commander agrees."

Lela nodded. "You should sit this one out, Short. You should've sat the last one out too. How you talked me in to that one, I'll never guess. But I will not risk another call from your husband." She said sternly.

"So then you agree to my conditions."

The Commander turned back the Fowl.

"Yes. I agree. I myself have two conditions, however. You find the girl within five days. You tell me why you are going to so much trouble for a mere human girl."

Artemis nodded wearily. "Fine. Five days."

"And?"

He rolled his eyes. Must he explain every detail to this demading elf? "She's my fiancee."

"What?" Holly shrieked. "You didn't tell me!"

He regarded her coolly. "You didn't ask."

She scowled in return. "Did I have to? I thought we were friends. Wasn't there something about her scheming to murder you or something? Or was it to rob you?"

Vinyaya raised a brow. "You sure know how to pick them, Fowl."

"That's why I'm having her mind-wiped, Major Short."

Holly's jaw dropped. She sputtered. "What? You can't-"

"No, Holly." He said sharply. "Do you agree, Commander?"

"Yes, Fowl." Lela said, again without hesitation.

The screen went back to the LEP Sect 8 logo in an instant. Holly turned to her suprior and best friend. "Are you crazy?"

Vinyaya grinned. "No. I felt we owned him. In a way, it is our fault this mess caused her running away. Why do you object, Major?"

Holly, reminded of her rank, flushed, but didn't back down. "It's Artemis! I don't even trust him that much, and he's one of my best friends! Besides, do we really want to return that poor mudgirl to him? He's going to mind wipe her, probably to keep her as a pet! Ever since that other mudgirl…he's reverted back to the Artemis before the Fowl incident. He hasn't been this cold blooded since he was 12!"

The Commander gazed at her favourite officer from across the desk. Short was clever, brave, compassionate, but young. Vinyaya was maybe 4 decades older, wiser, and could understand Fowl's dilemha and Holly's reluctants to help her friend.

"Holly." Lela said gently."Fowl's returning to his former self wouldn't help us or him. He won't hurt the mudgirl . Besides, he'll be doing what we're already arranging. Think of it this way; instead of dropping the poor thing off at her house to wake up alone with no one to help her or explain would be crueler than having her wake up with someone holding her hand, there to comfort. It will work out."

Holly looked at Lela, a slow realizing coming. Vinyay knew something important, something Holly did not. Something positive.

"Yes, Commander." She stood to leave.

"Short." Lela said before the Major could escape.

"Yes, Commander?"

"Watch Fowl. If anything happens, I want to know. Have Foaly help you. Report straight to me. If my intuition is wrong, I want to know. "

"Yessir."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**I like the fairies--really, I do. But there isn't much room in the story for them. Yeah, the main problems stem from their stupid rock, but I can't put them in too much. Which sucks, cause I like them. **

**Has anyone read the newest book yet? I was confused. And it was totally unexpected for me, the Holly-Arty thing. I mean, Eoin is saying he like Minerva and all, is going to possibly bring her back, start a romance with Arty, et cetera...I am way confused. **

**-Dania**


	34. Traveling Plans

**A short moment focusing on Sophia's escape plans. These are mainly places I want to go, so think would be hard to find somebody in. Also, Sophia has connections in each of these cities. Some of them have quiet funny stories, but I have no time for that now.**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Sophia Iver stayed indoors nearly 24/7, until she knew Artemis' people had stopped watching it directly. They occasionally checked the street, some posing as reporters trying to pump info from her neighbors. When necessary she left for boxes and tape, a suitcase, more special blend coffee, apples, magic markers, et cetera.

Never had there been such a search in the city, and never had such a huge manhunt been so hidden. Sure, there were the bounty hunters and do-gooders out looking for her, but Artemis' people…they were good. Very good. It was a gamble, even looking out a window, making phone calls, throwing things away. Booking her plane tickets were hell, he was monitoring the system via piggy back, so she had to _call_ in. Fifteen flights, all to different countries. Nearly. Tickets to Bali, where her uncle was, France in the Champagne countryside, Australia, Scotland, LA in America, Canada to Newfoundland, Buenos Aries in Argentina where her mother was raised, to South Africa Cape Town, England to Brighton, and New York. She had pick mostly larger cities and town because they were easiest to get lost in, and she had connections in all of them.

The plan was to go to New York. New York was the most logical. Not that she would be staying long. Long enough to get her possessions, store them, pay the house sitter for the year, then hightail it to Bali for three months. Next, Argentina to see her mother's family and give Sasha a tribute. After she hung around India with a friend of her father's she return to Europe, to France near Castlegate. It would a test of how well she'd disappeared. Artemis would be in France a week before her. She would take a train to Paris, where some meeting of his was and stay in the city for two weeks, in a hotel barely four blocks away from his. Under the name of Tara Gavin too.

If no one came breaking down her door in those two weeks, she had won. And she would go home. Life would become normal. For once.

Nothing was so sweet in her mind than the idea of victory. She would be the first to slip away. The old thief, the one who took on jobs just for the adventure, before her sister's safety became and issue, was savoring the satisfaction. Beating the greatest in the business, Artemis Fowl II. The boy who at 14 stole "_The Fairy Thief". _She, Sophia Iver, would be taking his greatest possession; his reputation.

Somehow, the pride deflated with that mentioned. Was his greatest possession really that? Or had it been…no, he only started this for his reputation. The search, the fancy room, the whole shebang was for his precious public standing as a businessman.

XXXXXXXXXXX

"Eggs, the potatoes, sausage coffee, guava juice, and the tropical salad. To go."

"Fifteen minutes." The man said shortly. Tara nodded, taking a seat at one of the cushioned benches on the wall. They were fast, the food was great, and it was a pleasant walk to the restaurant. She liked getting out, even if it was only for an hour. Today was safe, there were no patrols on this side of town in the morning.

There were packages to be sent and suitcases to deliver. After having finished all the chores, Sophia had decided to reward her acting with a hot breakfast. Since she was in the vicinity of Slam, she had hopped in.

The side of town Sophia was in was a long ways off from the apartment, but she wanted to avoid any shipping Co. or shops near the area. With that precaution, it meant she now had to travel down to another part of town. It was more money spent, but her life and freedom were worth a few pounds. And she had donned her wig, there was little risk of getting caught. Artemis was still at the Manor, he hadn't left since she had. Closing her eyes she recalled the image of a winkled shirt and thin body at the desk, bent over a computer screen, glancing up occasionally, fist tightening at the sight of the huge, yellow, sparking gem, lips pursing at he read the note.

She really was sorry. It hadn't meant to turn out like this. Not at all. Sasha was not suppose to be dead. Thousands of common people were not expect to be keeping an eye out for her in hope of a few thousand pounds. Sophia wasn't meant to feel any…fondness toward her "goal". And people's hearts were not planned to be broken.

"Miss? Miss?"

Sophia looked up, jumpy. It was the man at the bar, looking at her expectantly.

"Yes? Sorry, dozed off mate." She said hastily. "Long night at the hospital."

He nodded, not buying it, but then again, who would? "I said you're food 's ready."

"Right." She stood, swinging her purse onto her shoulder. "Thanks." The bag was warm from is contents. A smoky, tasty aroma drifted up, making Sophia tempted to sit at a stool and dig in. But she needed to get home. It was nearly time.

It did not pass her that while taking off down the crowded street a man watched her, eyes scanning her person. He certainly wasn't eyeing her body, rather, trying to ID her. She paced her stride to one Tara Gavin would never have used, and glared, grateful for her brown contacts. The man simply nodded and walked into Slam.

Being rude wasn't something she liked doing, but you never knew these days. Better safe than sorry.

He still watched her though the glass, but Sophia did not care. She didn't care when he pulled out the cell and started dialing. It didn't matter to her. She had a plane to catch. Artemis would never be there in time, even with all of his elaborate connections and cameras.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**I just really like that last line, don't you? Review!**

**-Dania**


	35. Various Returns

All the computers were on. Papers were everywhere, strewn across the floor and desks. There were multiple phones, cellular and speaker plugged in, waiting for calls. CNN, Fox, BBC, and a live camera feed from Dublin International Airport were on the big screen on the large wall. The cameras were directed toward all gates to America and the UK, London and New York especially. The room's occupant had hacked on to the airport's computer system in no time, piggy backing the system without a trace.

Emails were sent to all of Artemis' useful informants within the city. Bounty hunters, police officers manning certain streets, computer hackers, people who worked in media, and anyone who worked in public transport, including airport personnel.

But nobody knows.

There are seven tickets for various countries, all under her name. At least fifteen set to America, more under aliases. But they're all set for different times. He has people watching for her at every gate, but she isn't on any terminals. But she has to be somewhere. Maybe not at the airport, but somewhere in the city. Unless she plans to swim across the ocean or channel, she will have to step into that building, and when she does he will be there, waiting. He will find her.

He is named after the greatest hunter known; Artemis, the Greek goddess, mistaken to be the goddess of the moon. She was the hunter; she was the patron of the hunt, what was then a man's sport. The name never applied to him so much. He earned it many years ago, he's living up to it now. She is out there. He has to find her.

He will find her. It's just a matter of time.

If she manages to leave the country, he would fail himself and the People. He would fail her.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The brown package that came up to the study via dumbwaiter had a note from Butler attached reading :_This was left at the front gate, must have been hand delivered. I checked it myself, it's not dangerous, though the contents are surprising. –Butler_

It was addressed to "A. Fowl II, Fowl Manor, Study" in a familiar handwriting. Scrawled, sweeping, curved with quick gestures, it was hers. No matter how hard she tried to hide it, it was Tara's. Or Sophia's. She was playing with him, telling him she knew exactly where he was. Telling him she knew he was looking. Teasing him. She had been practically at the Manor, outside the gate, looking down the long drive. She could probably see the window to the room where he sat.

Grabbing a pair of scissors he sliced through the clear plastic tape and pushed away the tissue paper she'd jammed inside. Part of him worried, Butler did scan the box, yes, but what if she was that pissed off to kill him? Or inflict bodily harm in any manner?

Finally he pulled out a sparking yellow topaz. The demon's topaz. _"But why?" _

His attention is short. A white envelop nestled in the bottom with his name on it catches his eye. The paper bears no unusual markings or stains. It looks safe and perfectly normal. Hand shaking, scared half to death that it is a suicide note, a farewell, Artemis carefully opens it.

_Why else would she give it up? _

His question was answered promptly.

_My dearest Artemis:_

_I am so sorry. Believe me when I say I never meant to cause you any pain. Take the bloody rock, it's enough trouble, I'm sure. Stop looking for me. You'll never find anything you'd want. Ciao. _

_Yours,_

_Sophia _

There was no doubt that it was the real topaz. Yellow, glittering, polished; it was the demon's stone.

All he had to do now find Sophia. There was little to go on.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Hotels were put under surveillance. A few of their favorite place too. Museums, galleries, stores, historic sites, parks, spots by the river, dinning facilities. Constant reports, over 100 directly hired people looking. A couple hundred more after the newsreel.

Artemis had been positively livid to see the private information on TV. They had no clue as to who had made the calls, told the media. It certainly wasn't wither of the Butlers, but that didn't rule out the other hired help. Since Juliet had taken over the body guarding job, letting Butler work part time, there was little time for her to do normal chores. They'd had to hire three maids, who mainly cleaned and were rarely seen, a cook, and someone to help the groundskeeper that had been working in the Manor since before Artemis Sr.'s day. Nobody particularly trusted these people, save the grounds man. It could have been anyone of them. You didn't know who was a crazy these days, with human rights, and unreliable background checks.

Tara could have even done it herself as a cruel joke, but it was not likely. Artemis would guess she was even more outraged than he became at the news.

Surely she wouldn't think that he had done it? She knew him better than that. No, she couldn't. It wasn't like him to blunder plans in such a way. Besides, such public interference wouldn't be helpful to either of them; the dangerous people looking put her at risk, and she would have to just run all the more harder.

So far there had been over 1,500 calls. A few were demanding ransom, some claiming to have spotted her in a crowd (How, Artemis wondered, could she be at the docks then at the mid-city area and the on the west-bond road by the river all within five minutes of each other?), a couple claimed corpses, some were kindly folks wanting to actually help, more were from "Tara" giving directions to where she could be picked up, a number came from obnoxious teens teasing him that "his girl" ran away. "_Maaan-you must be bad!" _

It was tempting to write down their names and send Butler out with a cricket bat, rope and flashlight to terrorize the citizens…but he was needed elsewhere. Later he would let the manservant have some fun and set him on the city.

Luckily, Artemis Sr. and Angeline were still in France, and probably wouldn't get such trifling news. If they had, it wouldn't be but a few hours before they were on the doorstep again and they certainly would've called before to confirming the report. No need to check out of the resort if it was false media. Maybe he could get her back before they returned. Maybe she'd give up running and come home. Maybe he wouldn't have to…Maybe she'd be back to normal by the time his parents returned. Maybe he could tell his parents the truth. Maybe she'd wear the ring. Maybe the wipe would be simple.

Speaking of which, he had no idea of how she would react to the mind wipe. He, Butler and Juliet did fairly well adjusting. But would she fare the same? And, more importantly, would she stay under? Artemis' case was a first, the only one known to have revived to his former memory; even then it was with an influence. Her intellect, while not near his, could easily be enough to break the walls like he himself had. It was unlikely, but still an existent threat. What was a solution…he only had a few days to plan it out.

The phone rang, shrill and unpleasent. Rubbing his temple, Artemis answered, putting on the air of one who was calm and expectant.

"Yes?"

Whoever it was had already gone through Butler, there was no need for a warm greeting. Not that the manservant had given any.

"_Hey Boss, this is Eighty-eight by the Slam, I'm checking in to report. She's been in."_

Artemis sat up from his slump, elbows on the desk, blank pad of paper and a detailed map of the city before him. A pencil rested on the pad, sharpened to a perfect point in anticipation of news. In front of the young man, on the wall-size flat screen computer-media center a moving map with animated pushpins marked the destinations and paths. He gazed at it, predicting the new position.

"And?"

"_It was before I came in, but the guy at the bar says she ordered to go and had a drink. Didn't say much. Looked sad."_

"Are you sure it was her?"

"_Positive. She was wearin' a wig, though. Black, spiky thing. But it was her."_

"When? Did he say?"

"_Ah…round a hour 'go."_

"Thank you, Eighty-eight. Please alert your area counter parts. Great eyes."

"_Thanks Master Fowl."_

"_Click"_

So she was still in the city. Good. That was most defiantly good. But where? A hotel? And for how much long was she staying.

He looked at the clock on his desk, a golden masterpiece given to him by his father when he was nine years of age and had recived his very own office. He recalled walking in early one morning to find Tara sitting on his desk, polishing the clock, chatting away with Juliet, who was at the time, dusting bookshelves. Her face bloomed when she saw him. After a hug and peck she inquired after the gift, then set it gently back on the desk after the story, saying it sounded like a nice tradition. That was when he'd realized they honestly had a future together.

10:13 a.m. Which would make it near 9:00 when she came in to Slam. A late breakfast. What a usual thing for her. He needed one himself, come to think of it.

For the next three hours he made notes, watched footage, recived calls, and, at Butler's insistence, took a power nap. That did him a lot of good, as did the shower. The only way the manservant could convince him was by claiming the boy's fiancé would be grossed out by the sight of him. Three days of filth.

"It would also be seen as weakness. " Butler pointed out. "That you were so torn up over her…she could use that power…"

This was true. Artemis did not want to appear out of control. Anything but that. Still, he wanted to keep looking.

"But it could also be considerable amounts of time looking for her. Determination. Power in my hands." Artemis had argued.

"It will be weakness." Butler assured him. Tired and sick of smelling foul, the young man allowed himself to take an hour. Butler allowed a smug smiled and returned to the surveillance room.

Artemis was putting on his tie, a blue one Tara had bought him at a fair trade store, when Butler came back in, unannounced. He frowned into the mirror, annoyed. The manservant was making it habit nowadays. He'd have to fix that. It wouldn't be appropriate when he was married.

Butler was pale, stiff with shock. Whatever was the matter could wait, his master was still dressing. When he didn't move for a full minute the young man finally snapped. His nerves were still fragile.

"Well?" He demanded, tightening his tie. "What is it, Butler?" He smoothed the fabric and straighten it to a line.

"Artemis-" He sounded choked. Unusual for him, not many things bothered him enough to smother his façade. It must be serious indeed. Artemis gave him his full attention, mismatched eyes meeting Butler's own deep set black ones.

"You've got to see this."

""_Words that shatter." _The young man though, following his best friend to the study.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Here we see Arty tracking Sophia. Not a difficult thing, as you can tell. It's the catching that is proving a challenge. He wants a unpublic scene, something dramatic. But he also wants it personal, so he'll wait for the last moment (i.e. when she's at the airport) or when he can predict her movement (is waiting for her somewhere) so he can be all arrogant and smirking. Why? Because that is what our Artemis does! And also because the muses told me. **

**I hope the movie comes out soon.**

**Please review, my darlings.**

**-Dania**


	36. Words That Shatter

Dom settled into the computer chair with the air of one who is severely happy with their recent actions. The nap and wash would be very good for his charge, and a nice change for the manservant as well. He was sick of it smelling like a stable. Lucky Juliet. Artemis assigned her a job outside of the manor, away from his stench. She was supposed to be a go-between for the informants, as well as a sort of leader. It was her job to keep Sophia in sight when possible. It was a hard task. They hadn't even found the girl's base after so many days. Often it was Juliet who was scolded when things went wrong, unforseen things. But at the very least she didn't have the stench to bother her.

Appart from the smell, things ran nicely. He was proud of his employer in his handling of the situation. The whole operation was running smoothly. Well, nearly. Butler was a little confused as to why, after so many sightings, they didn't have her. First Artemis claimed it was to find the topaz, though Butler suspected it was a little more than that. Revenge? Lure her into false security, snap and then taunt her. If Artemis was really concerned about the rock he could just truth serum the girl if need be. Put her under mesmer. Threaten her, trick her…there were thousands of ways.

No, it was certainly more than simply the gem. They had it now, didn't they? That stupid rock. Why hadn't he snared her? She was one woman, for God's sake!

Perhaps it was a little more personal now.

"_They say hell hath no fury than a woman's scorn…" _Butler thought. "_That author has obviously never met a slighted Fowl." _

Sure it was immature, but what else could it be? Artemis was playing with her! The note proved she knew about his stalking…was she giving a little back?

Revenge. The bodyguard shuddered. Something sinister. Two highly intelligent people were playing tag, Gods know how it's going to end.

Butler recalled a conversation he had with the Major Short and Foaly last night. Or was it early this morning? The time was all muddled into one long period.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"He's gone a little crazy."

"_Well, that's to be expected." _The Major shrugged. "_It's his girlfriend." _

"_I've been waiting for him to go off the deep end for years now." _Foal appeared on screen, a carrot in one hand, a jumble of computers visible in the back ground, monitors on casting a bluish-white glow with demented shadows. Holly's own back ground was the warm light of her apartment. She sat in a comfy hoverchair, caressing her bulging belly.

"Foaly. Nice of you to join us."

"_Hey there big man." _He neighed. "_Did you know that our boy Artemis has hacked onto the Dublin Airport's computer system? And the Regan one in America?"_

"No." Butler sighed. "I knew he was on the Dublin, but not on anything International. Was it messy?"

"_A little." _The centaur admitted. _"I cleaned it up, though. He must be really over the edge."_

Butler though back to his last conversation with the boy. They had been arguing over his cleanliness, something that had never been an issue before, even when Artemis was a child! The girl really had broken him up.

"Yeah. Really over the edge." The manservant echoed.

"_Tell him he can paid me back later." _

Butler nodded, planning to do no such thing. It was a trivial thing; the centaur would bring it up at some point himself. No need to worry his charge over his hacking skills.

"_Is he really going to mind-wipe her of her identity?" _Holly blurted out before she could stop herself. Foal started, eyes snapping to the other side of his screen, presumably where the Major's image was.

"_What?" _

"Yes." Butler massaged his forehead. "He is. It's vengeance."

"_He's mad." _Foaly neighed, eyes darkening. _"You expect me to do that?" _

"He and your commander arranged it, so yes. Yes, _he_ does."

Foaly turned back to Holly. _"Lela agreed to this?" _His nostrils flared, voice serious and flat.

"Yes. I did my best but…"

"_It's murder! Taking memories for the sake of a race I can understand, but taking their identity…it's-" _

"You've done it before." Butler pointed out.

"_Yeah, but that was different, we weren't doom those people to an eternity of Fowl, and her sister just died…"_

"_Can you convince him to change his mind when he gets her? Ask her to be on her best behavior, promise to stay, anything like that?" _Holly implored, cutting across Foaly's weak argument with ease.

"Maybe. He's made up his mind, though."

"_What did she _do_?"_

The People didn't know Artemis' fury, just his greed. He wasn't about fight or flight, just payback. And you'd have to get him pretty bad to receive it. Still, Foaly and Holly knew him well enough to know something was up. Butler, however, didn't think it was his duty to inform them of their friend's betrayal. That was up to Artemis, whether they hear that or not.

_"She met Artemis Fowl." _Butler wanted to say, but simply replied with a firm, "It's not my place to say."

"_Whatever it was…she did something bad. Really personal too, if this is his reaction." _That was Holly, eyes wide. The comment was mainly directed to Foaly, who nodded in agreement. As the woman in the group, she occasionally took the traditional role of the comfort-giver/ass-kicker. Tonight it appeared to be half and half. Part of her wanted to kick Arty's arse, the other wanted to protect the girl from his wrath, then kick _her_ arse.

Butler sensed vibrations , coming from down the hall. Someone was coming. It wouldn't do for his master to find him speaking to the People.

"Well, until next time. Good-bye." He gave Holly a wink and shut off the projector and transmitter.

"Butler?"

A drowsy Artemis shuffled in. He smelled of B.O., his hair was greasy, lips chapped, bags under his eyes. Not a pretty sight. He wore dress pants and a white button down. Obviously he had still been working even though the manservant sent him to bed hours ago. Pretty soon he's be sedating or restraining the boy. Things like this made him wish the Gavin girl-or, rather, Sophia- was home again. He was acting like a workaholic again. He stood in the doorway, yawning pathetically to stage having just woken up.

"Yes, Artemis?"

"Who were you speaking to?"

"Nobody. I was singing." The bodyguard offered. If the boy took that he was far out of it.

"Oh." Artemis looked around the room, blinking. "Please keep it down."

It took all of the manservant's self control to keep him from snickering. "Are you working?"

Artemis jumped the hurdle, landing safely away from the trick question. Tired he might be, but there was still _some_ sense. Dull they were, but he still had them. "No. No, I _was _sleeping. "

"My apologies. Good night."

Artemis scrambled out, much faster than he was coming in.

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

When Butler had logged off Holly and Foaly remained, discussing their theories as to what this odd Mud girl had done to deserve Artemis's revenge.

"He could be trying to help her." Holly suggested, half-heartedly. "She'd maybe gone crazy after the other Mud girl jumped. Maybe Artemis is just trying to ease the pain...?"

"Nah." Foaly said, casual tone off by a key. He was still upset over the Commander's agreement. "Mud men have medications for stuff like that. What's the matter Holly? Hormones actin' up?"

The Major glared, though not with her usual withering venom. Her levels had caused her to sometimes be a little more...soft-hearted than normal. Trouble and Foaly both had a ball teasing her, while Lela snickered right along with them when Holly overracted about tiny incidences. Of course, there could be an opposite effect. Major Short was nearly on supension twice when she bit off an underling's head over some missing paperwork. The language was that bad.

"Why would he mind wipe her? Foaly, you're closer to Lela's office. Don't tell me you don't have a few bugs hidden in there?"

The centaur shuffled his right front hoof. "I did have a couple place." He admitted. "But I haven't heard anything very useful."

"But you have heard things?"

"Yeah." Foaly didn't met her hazels, looking at another screen instead, licking his lips nervously. Holly's eyes narrowed. The centaur had _something_.

"Foaly." Holly said evenly. "What have you heard?"

"It was just a rumor, really. You know Pax Terrian? Works in the intelligence level?"

Holly nodded. Pax worked with the spy stuff. One of their best. She'd met him thirty years previously in the flight acadamy. She wasn't really surprised Lela posted him to watch Fowl, if that's what Foaly was implying.

"He was giving a report...and it sounded like our Mud girl was involved in some plot to plunder the Fowl gold...and possibly kill Artemis."

Major Short gasped. Partly surprised by the news and in part shocked by the fact that Artemis's hadn't known. Or had he? It was hard to tell, with Artemis Fowl II.

"How...how? She wasn't-"

"But she back out about a month ago. The other Mud girl apparently was told to back off."

"Obviously she didn't follow orders."

"Nope." Foaly agreed. "Artemis saw it all. Photos, maps, plans, blueprints. She'd left it all on the wall. Their living room wall, to be exact. Our Arty saw it and freaked."

"I can see why she ran away." Holly murmured, recalling a few of Artemis's temper-tanturms. When he was a teen he sulked and yelled once or twice when things went terribly wrong. It had never gotten out of hand, but that didn't mean it couldn't. People's emotions bottled up over the years, making their one up capping a packed event.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Butler was concerned. If Foaly went back on Comm. Lela's promise, Artemis would be forced to try out his own mind-wipe. He had the technology since he was 16 to do so, though he hadn't used it. Butler wouldn't put it past his employer to use the machine if desperate enough. The tests said it worked. However, there was more than a little underlying factor of its safety. Whether it was healthy to use or not wasn't a question Butler was aspiring to answer anytime soon, especially on Artemis' fiancé.

Maybe he wasn't desperate enough to try it. Perhaps Foaly would do the wipe, if it meant his job.

Just as he was pondering the options, the phone rang. He flipped it open and answered without checking the ID.

"_Hello? Is this a 'Domovio Butler'?"_ The voice was business like, with a snobby tune playing about the vowels.

"Speaking."

"Ah, yes, well there seems to be a matter of paper work regarding your niece's-"

"My what?"

"Your niece, sir, Tara-"

"I don't have a niece."

"_Why you do, sir, it's here in the papers, and since your name is on the contact sheet-" _

"I'm afraid you have the wrong number."

"_Click"_

Mere seconds later it rang again, and Butler was sure to examine the ID screen before picking the sleek black device out of its cradle.

"Juliet-"

"_Listen! I don't have much time, they're shoving people off the dock. Turn the TV on to CNN, okay? There's been a crash, it's bad-"_

"What?"

"_Just do it! Don't tell Artemis until you're certain--I'm being pushed away, gotta go. CNN, remember, right now!"_

"Juliet, what-"

_"Click"_

Mumbling about how everyone has gone mad, Butler turned to the tiny monitor behind him. CNN came back from an ad break when the anchor starting talking of a plane crash. Dom's blood froze. The picture started to blur, distort, the sound along with it. Enraged, Butler slammed a hand onto the set. Not that this action honestly helped to quality.

He took off down the hall to the study Artemis had vacated an hour before, flipping on the TV.

"_-and this is simply awful, Roger. Folks, those of you who have recently joined us, a plane bound transatlantic has had a sudden engine failure and fell into the water. It's 20 miles off the coast, headed to England to drop half its passengers. _

_"There were seventy aboard, 17, no, I'm sorry, now 19 now confirmed dead. The officers are doing their best to contact each deceased's family as they are found. We have a report of one passenger's uncle hanging up. The department is begging you to call a "Domovio Butler" if you are a friend. His niece Tara Gavin is one of the number, could someone please inform him? Now, Roger, how many have been confirmed alive and how many more do officers need to find?" _

The phone called, shrill. Butler opened it. _Dublin City Morgue. _

"Yes?" His voice was hoarse. He sank into an armchair across from the screen.

"_Mr. Butler, I am sorry to imform you of your niece's death. One of our employees called you quiet recently, I am sorry, he wasn't informed that you had not been called yet."_

"Yes. It was in the plane crash?"

"_I am so sorry, sir. Would you like to come down and ID the body yourself, or is there a friends….?"_

"I—I shall inform her brother, then come down, myself."

"_I am sorry sir. Does she have any other family, you were the only contact she put down, perhaps an estranged parent?"_

"No. No, thank you."

"_Click"_

There wasn't any guarantee that it was her. Artemis had said she bought quiet a few tickets. There were a number of people with red hair. Still…the calls….Juliet…

Artemis…!

He would be devastated, if it was her. It couldn't be. It had to be someone else. She wouldn't died, not for that. If anyone on that plane had escaped, it would be her.

Maybe…maybe it was staged. Made to look like she died, so she could start clean without anyone look for her any more…no too many people really did died. Sophia wasn't a murderer. Perhaps it was a suicide then? Again, the problem with bringing so many people down with her wasn't logical. _When has suicide been __logical__?_

Whatever the case was, he had to tell Artemis. Soon. News this big, this close to the city wouldn't be kept from his ears for long. And soon some media busy-bodies would recognize the name "Tara Gavin". If this was all real that would _not_ make Artemis happy.

Butler headed down the hall to Artemis' room. The young man stood before the mirror adjusting his tie with a concentrated look on his face. He was thinking, planning the next move. If it was true there was no "next move".

The manservant stared at his charge, wondering how he should present the grave news. Artemis was so grown up. The years had flown. Hell, the months had! He'd matured, let loose a little. Tara had done him so much good. Gods, what would happen now? Would he return to the cold, aloof brat he was? Or would he stay changed, in honor of her? What would happen, indeed?

"Well?" Artemis was irritated, staring right back. "What is it, Butler? I'm still dressing."

"Artemis-" His voice came out, broken. Unexpected.

Artemis froze, eyes distant. Somehow, he guessed.

"You'd better see this."

As they exited the room Butler though he heard Artemis murmur something. _"Words that shatter."_

_What more is truth?_ The bodyguard thought sadly. She had one final trick to torment him with. Her memory. Somebody had to go ID the body.


	37. Bobby Darin's Dream

**Geeze, I forgot my disclaimers in the last few chapters. **

**DISCLAIMER Artemis Fowl is not mine.**

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The photos and footage flashed across the large flat screen. News anchors and reporters talked, feigning sadness. Numbers, audios, the words rolling across the bottom of the screen. It was all there, a testament to what CNN was. Artemis saw all of it. If he hadn't heard the reporters, he could have easily read their lips. For all audios he could call forth subtitles in mere milliseconds. He spoke any languages, English included.

Yet it was like every single thing on that television screen was gibberish. None of it made sense, yet it all did. He stood, staring at it until his feet ached, then he sank to the floor. The gaze he sent it never faltered.

Butler tapped his shoulder, praying for a glare, a usual custom for Artemis (oh, how he hated tapping!). He received one, but the boy didn't speak.

"When did you last get a call giving her whereabouts?"

"Four hours ago." He was quiet. "Have you been called yet?"

"By whom?"

"The morgue."

Butler raised an eyebrow. "How did you guess?"

Artemis shrugged. "It was in her information. You were her contact."

"Why?"

"So you could tell me, I suppose."

"So you think it was planned."

Artemis turned to face the windows, gazing out at the gray sky. "I'm not ruling that out." He said softly. "That would explain why she returned the topaz. But I do not think that it was suicide. I'm just looking at all the angles." His voice had a slight crack.

"Do you want to stay here?"

"No. But first," He sighed, lowering himself into a chair and putting his head on his hands, looking up at the manservant. "first can we go by her apartment? To pick up some things."

Butler paused. She had left so much of her stuff here, what could he possibly want?

"Yes. And you don't have to go in with me to ID the corpse."

"I want to."

"Yes, sir." Butler backed out, surprised by his employer's control.

When his bodyguard left Artemis crossed to the window, looking out across the lawn to the gate and toward the city. On a very clear day one could see the docks, and the ocean. If it was clear. But day it was cloudy. He wished the clouds would just open allowing the rain to fall, washing away the day, ending the terrible 24 hours before him. She might be dead. She might be alive and well, still eluding him and more than happy to continue doing so. Maybe she would see the news report and _come home. _He just didn't know any more. Predictions were beyond him today. Everything was fuzzy.

"_Are you dead?" _He asked her.

The clear silence answered with only the echo of his question, forming a big "_Perhaps." _

A small framed photo, her photo, sat on his desk. Tara grinned up, blue-green eyes twinkling, peachy-keen smile and two fingers forming a peace sign. The next photo, the one taken after the framed picture, held the ASL sign for "meat". It was a while before lunch, the day that photo had been taken, and she was trying to amuse him. The day had been warm, perfect for just lazing about together.

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Are we going to eat soon?" She'd asked, moaning and holding her stomach. He lowered the camera, giving her a mock glare.

"Not if you don't hold still. I want a photo."

"Aren't you taking my cue?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm the one whose suppose to be normal," she grumbled. "And want stuff like that."

He plopped himself down beside her (A first. When you're a Fowl you don't just _plop_!) on the bench. She placed her head in his lap, settling down with the newspaper Juliet had brought them. He promptly plucked it from her grasp, a slim black eyebrow raised.

"So _you_ are the normal one?" He asked slowly, each word pronounced as though it was special. Tara nodded solemnly, eyes narrowed from the sunlight beaming down.

"Yes. I am." She pulled Artemis forward, using his half bent form as a shield against the burning ball of gas that was presently bothering her. To an outsider it would look as though he was leaning in for a kiss. She felt around to his back, where he held the day's news ransom.

"You are?" He said again.

"Yes."

"You who speaks over seven languages, who can name all Roman emperors in 60 seconds, who can understand the dead sea scrolls and hieroglyphs in King Seti I's tomb but cannot grasp the simplest quantum physics, let alone some forms of basic algebra, you who has a PhD in genetic science but doesn't know how to order clothing online is _normal?"_

"In comparison to you, then, yes. Very much so."

Artemis lowered his face till it was a mere three inches above hers. Her eyes were glued to the newspaper she had finally managed to retrieve.

"Alright then." He had said lazily, sitting up straight, examining his nails. "Oh, one more thing: Will you marry me?"

"_Again?" _

He looked up, slightly startled, brow raised. "I'm just making sure."

"You've asked _78 times!_ It has been _five days. _That's 120 hours, Arty. Like, close fairly close to one question an hour if you discount sleeping time. "

"I've not asked that many times!"

"Yes, you have!" She pulled out a tiny pad of paper with tally marks (78 in total, divided into a box on the grid, one box per day). "Obsessive much? Or let's try possessive."

"Answer the question."

"Stubborn too!" She sat up to kiss him, long and slow. Pulling back, she scrutinized him. "That answer your question?"

He began to nod, so she cut across him. "Good, now shut up and stop asking."

Artemis glared, annoyed. He was having fun, asking constantly. Plus, he received more kisses. What was normally one or two a day had skyrocketed to twelve. Though, by the looks of things now, it would be bumped to slaps pretty soon.

However, it wasn't just the making out. He also needed assurance. The hesitant answer and the hell he had to go through to get it wasn't very supportive of the said answer. It worried him. What if it was a lie, a result of his forcing her to promptly reply? He believe if she constantly was reminded of her promise, whether it be true or not, it would stick in her mind so by breaking it would cause supreme guilt.

The constant reminder was making her feel guilty now, though not for saying a false yes, rather, by meaning her words. Her sister would be so very disappointed. Sophia both hated and lovedhow he constantly asked. Yes, it made her feel all fluttery inside, full of the joy normal bride-to-bes possessed until the guilt came upon her.

A breeze floated by, and Sophia closed her eyes, taking in the warm summer air. What a nice day. Artemis shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. She cracked open an eye lazily. "Lunch'll be done soon. Relax. You need a break, cooped up indoors all day talking to the big shots. Soak up some vitamin D, darling. "

"It's not that-" He started, but was stopped when Juliet rounded the hedge corner, smiling.

"Hell-o you two! Ready for lunch?"

"Totally." Tara stood to follow. "Coming love?" She turned back to Artemis, whose elbows rested on his knees. He looked very pale today, like copy paper. Concerned, she walked back, pushing back the wing of raven hair to feel his forehead. The white, flawless skin was a little warm, though not unusual considering the weather.

"I'm fine." He assured her as she helped him to his feet. "Just getting old."

Tara chuckled. "Dear god, I've forgotten. Nearly 27, aren't we? My, my how old. You must feel like a pedophile, hanging out with a child like me."

Artemis attempted a weak smile himself. He had not mentioned his three-year age gap to her, nor did he plan to anytime soon. It was just another thing to keep.

"Yes, actually, considering your maturity." She punched him playfully as he turned his attention to Juliet. "Could you wait a moment? We won't be more than ten minutes. "

"Right." She nodded and turned back to the house. Tara giggled when she heard _"On my back telling me to get it done so damn quickly…"_

"Really, you shouldn't do that to her. She can deck you easily. As can I." She reminded. "What is it you wanted to tell me? Or ask." Her eyes were narrow, daring him to ask the fateful question that would indisputable land him with a bruise.

"It's related to that." He said causiously, keeping a wary eye on her punching arm. _Careful._

"Do you want a ring?"

She blinked. That was unexpected. "Um." They hadn't really mentioned it. Unconciously, she backed up. "Not really." Had she implied she needed one? "Why do you ask?"

He shrugged. "Just wondering."

"You can get one, if you feel the need. But aren't we keeping it kinda secret?" She moved back another foot.

"Yes. But I'd just feel more…comforted if you had one."

Her mouth twisted into a smirk, eyes twinkling. "Is this another control issue, Arty?"

_Some shiny weights to keep me from leaving?_

"No." He said coolly. "It is merely an offer. A gift, if you will."

"I won't. What is it? A reminder while I'm in that big bad city that I'm _taken_?"

"It's a offer." He sighed. "Most women would jump at such a chance. Many beg for jewelry."

"Most women who do that don't support themselves. Those women who do who are like that feel like their spouses should buy them shiny things as displays of affection. Most women are not married to you, love. And I am not like most women. However cliché that line may sound, it's true, my love. You pick me out of that line up because I was unlike 'most woman.'" She formed little quotations with her fingers, smirk replaced by cool mockery. Tara leaned forward, eyes glinting. "And I assure you I will never beg."

She straighten. "Thank you for the offer." Her tone was cordial, slightly taunting. His eyes met hers. _Boy is he mad. Maybe I shouldn't have pushed it._ The mismatched eyes flamed.

"_Tara._" He said in warning.

She hadn't ever had it directed toward her, but Sophia knew he had an aweful temper when pushed. He was more serious than she was about this whole marriage situation. Tara mocked it, pushed the belt, and pissed him off quite a lot in the process. It was walking on glass when dealing with the wedding subject. Sometimes he joked with her, others he glared and snapped.

"Artemis." Her tone matched his. Then she grinned, leaning back against the wall. "Aw, go ahead and get one. Sexist pig. Make sure it's a big rock, okay?"

"Tara." He sighed, sitting back down. "Please be serious. I want to tell you..." _I know who you are. I love you. Sophia…it doesn't matter to me. Does it to you?_

"Yes?" She had crossed to stand before him again, hands on her hip, smiling lightly.

"Speak of the devil." He murmured. "Go have lunch. I'll be out here awhile." _I need to sort things out in my head. _

"In a moment."

"Gods, woman, can you never answer any request? Please-"

She had curled up in lap, kissed him full on the lip. Pulling away, she sighed disappointedly. "Alright."

"No, no no." Artemis pulled her back, panting. She scooted off, shaking her head.

"Ah, no. I'm filling in your request, darling. Farewell." Skipping off into the path, Tara blew him a kiss.

"Soph--Tara!" He cursed. He needed to stop calling her that in his mind. Their continuous teasing was stressful some days, making him forget.

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

"If I don't change you, would it be so terrible of me?" He wondered aloud, speaking as though she was still alive, could still hear him.

Below him the red Bently pulled up in the drive. Butler got out and walked to the steps. When he reached the first one, he glanced up to Artemis' room. Artemis met his eyes and nodded.

Butler returned the nod. He spun, walking back to the car. Artemis sighed, grabbed a backpack to hold any possessions, and exited the room. Heading down stairs a searing thought crossed his mind: _She's gone._

It was lighting.

He stumbled, catching the fall just in time by grabbing the railing. A hot pain filled his chest. He clutched the area around his heart. The pulse was wild. It was like a sonic boom of emotions. Regret, anger, hate, denial, love, devastation, loss, despondent, overwhelming grief, emptiness, passion….Gods, is this how she felt when Sasha jumped? Like she was being ripped…apart slowly, then quickly, like poison. It was _nothing_ to be compared to Minerva's departure. Then it had been cold barrenness, a blank hole of a life. Here it was ten times worse, with emotions deeper. Maybe because he had known Minerva was still alive, still breathing, still with a pulse. Sophia…it could have been suicide. A Terrorist attack. A painful, slow drowning, or burning, or blood loss. Blunt force trauma. Strangulation. Anything. Hell, she could alive. It could be a trick. Anything.

Nearly ten minutes passed as he stayed in the nearly-falling pose, shock filling the silence and time. Butler didn't come back indoors until exactly ten minutes passed.

"Artemis?"

The young man could see the huge front doors from the step. He straightened, smoothing back his hair in a fluid motion. The bodyguard eyed him warily. The boy's eyes were still wide and his hands trembled.

"Do you want to wait?" He asked gently, concern filling his eyes. He'd had the same experience over twenty years ago. It was vivid memory. The crushing, suffocation blow. Like drowning. His charge was much younger than he was all those years ago, and already fragile in his emotions. Such a down pour must be murder.

"No." Artemis' voice was sharp. He was determined. The sooner she was confirmed, the sooner she could come home. He would bury her beside Sasha. Then story would be over, like a bad dream with no proof of existence. A blurry memory of a terrible and wonderful time. "We're going."

"Yessir."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The car pulled out of the drive, steady and paced. Artemis sat in the back, the tinted glass that created a divider between him and Butler in the front seat was up for the first time in years. Tara didn't like it, and refused to put it up even when they were trying to be private. She thought it was rude.

The ride to the city was longer than usual. A multitude of vehicles were headed to the docks and sea side. Families, friends, media persons, and the morbid people who just wanted entertainment. Some vans filled with coffee, sandwiches, and donuts for the searchers. The roads were painful to drive through, a normally ten to fifteen minute drive becoming a thirty to forty-five minute one. Butler's already dim humor was sacked completely, though he kept a façade of serenity for his charge's sake.

When they finally reached the city, Artemis' own careful expression was marred by a few wet drops. Minutes previously, the loud sirens of ambulances pierced the silence. He had flicked on the built-in telly on to CNN.

It was not her. A man, in his fifties, had been found clinging to a door. Artemis took down the fellows name to memory. Maybe he could be of use later.

They passed the morgue. Butler slowed, glancing back at his charge. He got on to the walkie-talkie, inquiring as to whether Artemis wanted to go on in or wait. "Go to the apartment." He instructed. Butler complied, pulling back onto the street.

Such a drive was torture for Artemis. Regrets filled his present thought, chasing his previous optimism. _She's dead_ was repeated over and over, echoing into a dark mantra, one made of pure nightmares. _Yes, she must_ _have felt like this after Sasha…Gods, why did I attack her so soon after…?_

"_Sir?" _

_What? _Artemis opened his eyes, blinking from the gray light cast down from the sky. The side door was open. Butler stood holding it open, apprehension clear in his expression. Artemis tasted salt. His face was wet, his eyes felt damp, and enlarged, something he often experienced when crying. He must have blacked out without realizing it.

"We're here." The bodyguard explained. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Artemis blinked again, and sat up. "Yes." He glanced up. The sky had darkened to a steely slate.

"It's going to rain soon." Butler observed. He helped Artemis out. They boy's legs were jell-o at this point. He steadied himself on the car's frame, still looking at the sky. "Do you want me to check it out?" He nodded to the building before them. With all the reporters huddling around in recent days it wouldn't be surprising if something unwanted still resided in the structure.

Artemis came back to earth, jumping slightly and looking at his employee as though he'd never seen anything so shocking as a darkening skyline. "Ah, no. I'll bring the…the pistol."

Butler raised a brow. "Artemis. You can't _shoot_."

"No matter." The boy dismissed the fact as a minor issue. "It's threatening." He set off for the steps.

"Whoa." Butler held him back. "What are you plotting, Artemis? Do you know some tidbit that might be a little important to this situation?" The manservant glared down, recalling many instances where only partial truth was given. Everything had, in the end, worked out, but unnecessary thing had been risked in the process without 100 guarantee that the plans would work.

"Nothing, Butler. Nothing. May I?" He gestured to the door, tugging on his jacket.

"Alright." The bodyguard said, hesitant. "If there is any trouble, come out immediately. The material cost isn't worth it. " He did not feel good, letting his charge go in without protection (Madam Ko would have had a heart attack had she seen him do so.) but had he insisted, Artemis would have gotten pushy. This was something Artemis had to do alone. It was a private mourning time. _Or something more._ His charge had something up his sleeve.

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

The air was warm in the house. It smelled of vanilla and cleaning supplies. Had someone been tidying up the place. On the wall beside him, the one siding the stairs, there were photos, mostly of pets and places. A vase of daisies sat on the bar table under the frames. The flowers were clearly fresh. He frowned. Someone leaving gifts? Surely there couldn't be new occupants already. Didn't they own the house?

Artemis turned to the left, to the sitting room. It was a square, cozy place with a fireplace and plump, comfy furniture. The nick-knacks that had previously sat on shelves or tables were now mostly gone. Three thick buttery candles stood on the mantle, burning, giving off a thick vanilla aroma. Behind the couch a neat line of boxes sat, marked and taped. Was someone sneaking in and packing what they'd like as they fancied?

He returned to the foyer, frowning. What was going on? Had she hired some one to do this, or was it a break in? A few breaking notes crumbled his concentration. From the upper floor, the 2nd floor where the bedrooms were from the sounds of it. And faintly…

"_Every night I hope and pray…._

_A dream lover will come my way…"_

Bobby Darin's cheery lyrics were completely out of the moment. But it was a sign. Somebody was there.

In speed one normally would not associate with Artemis Fowl II, he jogged up the stairs, searching for the source. There was a chance that she had just left her CD player on by mistake. Or that someone was there. How was it that they didn't hear him enter? It wasn't as though he was incredibly quiet.

"_And_ _know the magic of her charms…_

"_Cause I want a girl…to caaalll my owwwn…"_

It was coming from the left room, the larger one he had assumed to be Sophia's. The pistol came out. His blood pounded. Who ever was in here was going to be very, very _sorry._ They had picked the wrong time to plunder his fiancée's apartment. Gods, he was using a lot of control. Quietly, he nudged the door, glancing in.

A female stood, back to him, facing the window, in front of the bed. She appeared to be folding clothes and putting them in either a cardboard box or a black suitcase. Artemis' eyes narrowed. Bloody hell, she was nicking clothing too! Underwear! She paused, and for a moment he feared he had been discovered. But she simply turned (still not facing him) to grab a remote off the bedside table and turned up the music.

Her hair was dark and shortly cropped. Since the room was so shadowed he couldn't make out much more. The seconds passed, then he heard her speak. It was a mumbled "Damn", and not loud enough to recognize any of it's features. She lifted her hands and pulled off her hair, reveling a tumble of thick curls under the wig. Artemis muffled a gasp. It was too coincidental. The hair was dark red, she was the right height….he was about to enter when the final piece proved his sudden theory.

"_I want a dream lover so I don't have to dream alone…" _

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**I love this song. It's just so retro and cute! It really makes you want to dance. If I ever get married, this is so on the dance playlist. **

**Listen to it if you haven't! It's by Bobby Darin, but personally, I like the Darren Romeo version better. **

**Some might argue that Artemis doesn't act like this. But remember, we've never seen him in this level of grief. I'm just thinking on the course that A) He doesn't experience regular human emotion like us B) He's pretty regretful at this point. **

**Any ways, this wasn't suppose to be so long. Then the flashback just came to me! So I put it in and was all "Now What?" Most every other chapter was planned out. **

**-Dania**


	38. And I Love You

What the Voices Say

**What the Voices Say**

**By Dania, the Morbiddramaqueen10**

**Chapter-what-I-think-is-38 And I love You**

**DISCLAIMER Artemis Fowl isn't mine. Tara/Sophia, Sasha, Bill, Mary, and anyone else original is, however. And you may not use them without permission.**

**Yo, does anyone here have a DeviantART? Anybody? **

**Review, please.**

**Oh, and this is out of the blue: Has anyone seen "Newsies"? I saw it, like, a month ago. It's so cool. Young Christian BaleHOT! Totally. What do you think of me possibly making a Newsies Fanfict? With another OC, of course. **

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The rain would begin soon. Sophia wasn't too concerned. It could potentially stop her flight, true, but from the feel of the air she believe it would be simply a light pour. Perfect for washing her away. It would be nice way to say good-bye. Similar to her greeting. When they had first arrived at Dublin, nearly five years ago, there had been a quiet drizzle. Funny how these things worked out.

The clock on her bedside table read 4:23. Roughly six more hours before she had to get on that plane. She was glad she had chosen the later flight that went directly to North America rather than the earlier one that went across the England first. This way she had more time to pack, without the pressure of catching an early flight. And she got to sleep in, a bonus she could most definitely use. Having a crazed genius searching for you did not do wonders on one's sleep or sleeping patterns. Rarely she caught a few hours. Maybe she'd snooze on the plane.

"_Ow."_

The stupid wig. She'd forgotten to take it off. Multiple pins held it in place, often pricking her. Fake hair was also itchy. What damage on her nerves! Silently cursing it she slid it off her skull taking in a private moment of satisfaction as waves of red fell around her, curling softly. Her favourite feature. Artemis' too.

Next to her eyes it was the one of the only things left of her father. He himself had not had any red colour; he was Black Irish. It was a hereditary trait on his side. The brilliant red usually skipped a generation, though it had been know to skip two or three if the other side had stronger genes.

A soft sound broke her bubble. It was between a gasp and sigh. Sophia tensed. Had she done that herself or was there another occupant in this room?

Staying calm was essential, it could just be her head playing tricks. Still. She glanced at the mirror on the wall across from her. It was angle ever-so, making the viewer able to see out into the hall if they tilted their head exactly. She had installed it in that particular position after catching Sasha eavesdropping in on a phone call. Nobody was there that she could see, but the door wasn't fully open, just ajar.

Her favourite line was up so she sang along, praying Bobby Darin's cheery lyrics begging for eternal love would stop her mind tricks.

"'_Cause I want…. a girl… to caalll my oooown…_

_I want a Dream Lover So I don't haffta dream alone."_

She didn't know where she'd found it, where she first heard it, but since she was young it had been one of her favourites. Something played when stressed. Or distressed. Sasha hated it, saying it was scratchy, old, and cheesy as well. That's why Sophia loved it so much. The unlikelihood of a "dream lover" ever existing. Relationships were push-pull, no fairy tale. Bobby Darin's crooning charms were a nice fantasy.

Noticing a lone sock on the other side of the bed, Sophia scooted across to bend down and retrieve the black cotton article. Popping back and turning round, she was face to face with Artemis Fowl the Second, and then quite suddenly mouth-to-mouth. In too much shock to push him away Sophia kissed back, realizing then just how much she'd missed him.

The Armani-clad arms wrapped around her, on her waist another, across her shoulder to cradle the base of her skull, caressing the fine baby hair on the neck. In turn Sophia kept a hand on his cheek and one draped on his shoulder, flung out aimlessly. It wasn't just some Roman candle kiss; it was an explosive atomic baby, ready to set off more than expected. One or the other stood, dragging their partner to a wall, only to push them against it. Sophia moaned, not in pleasure, rather in misery of her situation. Artemis didn't catch the emotion behind the sound, and began laying kisses on her neck.

She really didn't want to stop. He was such a good kisser, which was surprising. But she needed to escaped. Too bad. At least she'd had time to send some things to N.Y., and transfer her accounts. The only problem was the tickets. They were in her purse, which was down the hall…

"Sophie?" Artemis murmured against her neck. Oh. She must have stopped all action.

_Wait._ He had called her _Sophie._ Her name, and not just that, but the endearing nickname she possessed as well. Maybe he had gone mad. Artemis didn't to that. To him she was and would always be Tara Gavin, artist and his fiancée. Why ever would he recognize her as her, call her by her given name?

"Sophia?" He sounded a little more alert.

"Uh," she said the first thing that came to her mind. "I need to go to the bathroom."

Artemis pulled back, blinking. That was the last thing either of them had expected. Perhaps a deep conversation, negotiations, confirmations but not declarations of bladder functions.

"Okay." He pushed himself back from her body, helping her away from the wall. A blush crept up his cheeks, and he rubbed his neck, embarrassed over his sudden actions.

"Right." She slipped out the door, with a face just as glowing as his, he was satisfied to see. "Ah. Right. I—I'll be out in a moment."

Artemis nodded, though to no one for the room was empty. Frustrated, he took his aggressions out by hitting his head on the wall once or twice, even if science had proven that it could reduce brain cell count. Gods, one sight of her and he had gone bezerk. Understandably, he thought she was dead. There was no way he could go through with the wipe now, not after this. The relief of seeing her, Sophia, alive…and she had responded, not pulled back…things would work out. Definitely.

He was interrupted from these thoughts by his cell ringing. Flipping it open he snapped a "What?" briskly, looking out the window on to the fire escape. Butler hesitantly answered, catching on to his employers mood, speaking carefully.

"Artemis." He kept his gazed glued to the window. "Is there someone in there with you?"

"Yes." Artemis sounded surprised. "Why?"

"They're not going to be with you for much longer."

"What?" Butler heard footsteps and the sound of a creaky door being opened with force. Then a sigh and mumbled _"Damn". _The window was closed, though judging by the broken lock laying below it, it had recently been opened.

"Where is she?" He asked flatly, anger concealed neatly in a few syllables.

"On the fire escape. Who is she?"

Artemis paused. "What do you mean '_who'_?" A white plastic mannequin's head that had clearly once held a wig caught his attention, as did the cat carry in one corner. A hiss came from inside. He backed away, eyeing it suspiciously. Butler heard another sigh. "Catch her."

"Click"

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

How the hell did he find her? And what was this _kissing?_ Jerk.

There was no time to drop Gem off now; she'd have to leave a note. Luckily the cat was already in a carrier, and in the bathroom too. Too bad she'd have to leave that cute suede skirt and the alpaca sweater here. Maybe he would clear out after he found her gone, but it was a fat chance. Well, at the very least, she had some things waiting for her in America. But that sweater was one of her favourites! Prick. He had to come along and ruin everything! Still, she got a nice good-bye kiss out of it. But that didn't bring her sweater back.

It took a mere two minutes to get the wig on perfectly and slip into some jeans and a rose colour jacket. Another 78 seconds to open the window, which hadn't been open in years. It took a little work to jiggle the lock out, and even more of an effort to be quiet about it. She scribbled a note and tapped it to Gem's carrier. _"Good-bye," _she silently said to the cat. Sophia truly was sad to give Gem up, she was such a wonderful listener, not to mention attentive at keeping the mice and rats at bay.

She swung a leg out the window, grateful she had put her tennis shoes on earlier that morning. When closing the window with a tiny _"snap" _she had to brush back the honey-blonde hairs of the wig, cursing it. She had nothing against blondes, just the fact she had to wear a wig at all. Having the noticeable auburn-ginger locks instead of an average dish-water blonde or chestnut made her an easy find in nearly any crowd. There would definitely be an appointment to the salon when she got "home". Take maybe 12 inches off, lowlights, maybe get it a little layered.

Below her she heard fateful words that spelled _"Run!" _if you heard them in the right context. Butler was on the street, talking in to his cellular, no doubt as to who it was.

She ran to her right, out of sight of the street and the bathroom window. The Bodyguard headed toward the ally. If he went up the steps closest to her, she was trapped. The ladder behind her was rusted and unusable. Maybe she could climb to the escape above her, but Butler would just follow. Options ran through her mind. Suicide was obvious, but not something she was desperate for. Maybe, if she picked the right spot, a jump would be possible…she could jump to the next building at the other side, there was nearly a meter and a half difference between it and her building. Yes, that was most logical. Butler was too old to be hopping about the roofs of old Dublin.

Taking a breath Sophia ran straight on right, the direction Butler would soon be emerging of. Three feet from the steps she hopped up, pulling on the old ladder that hung just out of her reach. One jump. Two. She could feel the vibrations of his massive feet…three. Four. She had it! The manservant's bald skull could be seen. She scrambled up, repeating the process, feeling Artemis' arms around her, breath on her neck, words in her ear. _"Never again." _He reassured her. _"Always Tara." _

As she climbed the next ladder, this one far more rusted than the last two, she heard her sister. Nothing in particular, just things her sister use to say. Glancing down, Sophia saw Butler just below her. He had looked up at the same instant, eyes cold. Hers widen, fright, making her freeze for a moment. In all their raids never once had they been so close to being caught. This was a new thing.

Finally her hands touched brick. She lunged up, feeling a moment of heat on her foot. Butler's hand had been hovering over her foot, making ready for a grab. Wasting no time on catching her breath, Sophia fled to the opposite ledge.

Had it really been so long since she had been up here? Only a few nights…no time to dwell on that now. Butler stood, having made it up the three ladders with ease. Well, he wouldn't be able to take this next challenge. Sophia's foot made contact with the ledge. She caught herself, steadying her form from dropping.

Oh Gods. It was more than one and a half meters. More like three. Would she be able to make that? Twelve feet wasn't a lot, but she was tired and out of practice. "_Take a chance." _She told herself. "_A few broken bones are better than a life as Tara, trophy wife."_

Another voice sounded in her head, making her jump and gasp, startled. It was Artemis, roaring in anger. _"You can't do this! Suicide isn't…Sophia!" _

Surprised, Sophia answered back aloud. "But I'm not going to kill myself."

"Good." A hand was laid on her shoulder. A large, muscled hand. "I believe Master Fowl would like to see you." Butler swung the girl around and was surprised to see two blue-green orbs staring back at him, just as surprised. It was the Iver girl.

"Miss Iver." He added.

"I don't-" She began, but the bodyguard hit a pressure point and she gasped. Her free movement in all of her limbs stopped. Numb and already weak, she gave in.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

Butler laid her still form onto her bed, and with a nod from Artemis, left the room. Sophia closed her eyes, thankful he had propped her on a pillow. Why had she stopped? Why had she answered back to one of the voices in her head? Why had she agreed to this, anyway? So far all it had given her was a dead sister, a vengeful fiancé, and a whole lot of trouble.

Gentle hands stroked for face, pulling of the wig and undoing her ponytail. She didn't bother in opening her eyes. It wasn't like she didn't know what awaited her. Gleaming eyes and the promise of "a happy new life" to "start over". Nothing that appealed to her. Well, either way the dice rolled she would've had a new life, though the happiness involved would've depended on who orchestrated it.

Artemis' heart broke to see her frozen, unable or unwilling it was hard to tell. She didn't move when he took off the blonde monstrosity that hid her real hair. Looking her over he saw a series of scrapes and scratches. One foot was missing a shoe, and it throbbed, a little red. Most likely she twisted it. A bloody cut on the heel of her right palm slowly dripped onto her jeans, leaving a stain. His hands probed her skull, searching for any damage. There was nothing, but her head was hot and her blood pounded. She was angry. At him, at herself, at Butler, at everybody.

"Why?" He asked, voice hushed. If he wasn't afraid of scaring her it would have been an ocean of emotions. Anger, fear, sadness, regret, outrage filled his tones. Control went out the window. "Why would you try to kill yourself?" His voice broke on the word "kill". "I don't know why you would think your life would be so terrible that you would try to end it. Was it the idea of-of being with me?"

Sophia shifted, eyes opening. They shined with annoyance, pure, full rage and amusement. An odd combination, albeit, but still very passionate. "What," She asked, the venom in that single word alone almost enough to make any normal person step back. "makes you think I was going to kill myself? You great prick, I was jumping on to the building beside us! It wasn't suicide, I'm not ready to go yet. But I'm sure as hell not ready to be _Tara Gavin," _She spit the word out with hate, great hate. "for the rest of my life, thank you."

Artemis nearly bent down to kiss her, but she stopped him with a firm hand on his chest. "No. You're going to control those hormones, and _listen._ I have things to say, and you're going to let me say them, or Gods so help me, I will jump off this building. "

He leaned back, nodding.

"Good." Sophia said, satisfied. The numbness was wearing, so she struggled to sit up properly, wanting to be eye level with him. It would build her confidence. He looked ready to help, but a quick glare stopped him. She didn't want him touching her and bring everything back to square No. 1.

"I'm not going to tell your little secret about the little people. You can forget about brainwashing me. It wasn't my fault they chose to reveal themselves, I was just looking out for my sister. You try," her eyes narrowed. "I _will _find a way out, be it death or by plane, I'll be gone. "

He swallowed and nodded again.

"This engagement." Sophia put a hand to her forehead, massaging it, eyes closed tightly. "It is a bad idea. You don't need me beside you, it'd be a whole lot of grief. I never lied, I do love you. But with this situation…" She sighed. "You can see as well as I can why we shouldn't. I'm sorry. If you knew…you'd never want me."

At this Artemis' restraint against speaking was forgotten.

"No. I do want you!" He cried. She looked up, startled. The slang was unlike Artemis, as was the unrestrained emotion. He sounded sincere. "Why do you think I've been combing the city night and day for the past five days? If it was just the memory thing…I was looking for you."

"You haven't. You have been looking for Tara Gavin, trophy wife." Sophia declared angrily. "I was just some goal, admit it. You were not looking for Sophia."

"Are you so different, Tara and Sophie?" He shook his head, smiling. "You really aren't. I love you, who ever the hell you are. I know you are an artist, you do like many different kinds of music, you had a sister, I know your family history…"

"That's not enough."

"It is for me. We have time enough to get to know each other."

"No." It was firm. "I'm ending it. Stop chasing me. " Her eyes softened. "It's ending the way it should've. Remember the contract? We're nearly right on the deadline. You'll get over it, Arty." She said it kindly, with a sincere hope in her voice. Yes, it would hurt her, but Artemis would find somebody. A much better woman, one who would be suited to the Fowl life.

"I don't want to."

"Too bad."

"Why won't you try? Is it so much to ask, for you to stay?"

"Yes, it is. I have a plane to catch in a few hours, and I'm not done packing." Her gaze swept to the boxes littering the floor. Catching sight of his face she patted his hand. "Hey. I'll be back in the city sometime. Mind if I look you up?" It would be such a painful visit, but necessary. And she would get to keep tabs on him. From her last update, he had gone _way_ downhill on hygiene.

He didn't answer, remaining frozen, so she tentatively slid off the mattress. There were only a few more things now. One or two more boxes, tops. She could take them to the postal office after she finished the few left in the parlor.

"You aren't getting on to that plane." He said softly from behind her. She looked up. She hadn't known he was so close to her. A mere meter. Less, probably. A dark, cold expression rested on his face, fear flitting briefly through his eyes. Sophia quivered, scared and angry herself.

"What?"

"You heard me." His eyes were dark now. "You are not getting on that plane. "

Sophia stood, eye brows raised. "You can't-"

"I can." He snapped. "I won't lose you again."

"I'm not letting you-"

"That decision is out of your hands, Sophia." There it was again, the obsessive, controlling, possessive tone. And they way he said her name…pronounced, full, held in regard. Like she was some prized pet, a racing horse. Maybe an old car he was fond of. It sent waves of fear coursing through her, one she would normally ignore. He turn, marching to the door. Sophia followed closely behind, protesting.

"Artemis you are NOT--what? No! Stop this! I can make my own-"

"Butler." The manservant stood in the doorway, face impassive.

"Yes, Artemis?"

Stay in here with her." The young man ordered. "I have business to attend to. Keep her in." He turned to Sophia. "You can stop packing. You won't need to waste the time." The voice used was cold. Not filled with any particular emotion, like joy, anger, or nasty satisfaction. Just blank.

Furious, Sophia fought past Butler, making it to the door before he fully closed it.

"You can't do this! I haven't done anything!"

It fell upon deaf ears.

"ARTEMIS!"

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

"Argh!" She threw up a hand, wanting more than anything to scream. She brushed past Butler, headed to a wall, ready to throw herself at it in sheer frustration. It was habit, something her father encouraged. Take your aggression out on something. Usual he meant a boxing bag, or possibly a pillow, but Sophia wanted some physical pain to distract her. Butler caught her just as she was rearing up.

"I don't think Mr. Fowl would appreciate it if I allowed you to do that." His voice was calm and controlled, and Sophia was given the mental image of him talk to a wild stallion, calming it with eye contact and his voice. He would have been a great officer.

"I don't give a damn about what 'Mr. Fowl' wants." She wanted to hiss, but respected Butler enough to say it in a low, mocking voice. "Since he obviously doesn't care about mine enough, I'll return the favour."

Butler merely dragged her to the armchair by the fireplace, settling down on the one beside her. Cushy and plump it was angled perfectly, so its occupants could either gaze at the flames (non-existent at this time, it was summer) or at each other. Butler chose the latter, fixing Sophia with his unperturbed gaze.

What he saw was a girl. Young, angry, frighten, Sophia wasn't ready to be a Fowl wife. She was just a kid. Lips in a tight line, body firm with tension and determination, eyes hard and challenging, the manservant did not second think the fact that if Artemis decided to take her back to the Manor, strip her of her identity, they would go through hell trying to get her there, keep her there, and get her into the chair that held her fate. She would not allow them to brainwash her. She wouldn't marry Artemis. She wouldn't let them take her free will. There was no way, nothing they could convince her of. She might love Artemis, might adore his family and Fowl Manor, but she wouldn't let their binds keep her.

And she was so young. 21…a child. Artemis did forget how much younger she was, emotionally rather than by actual age. He couldn't just restrain her, the loss of youth would kill her spirit.

Butler understood his employer's actions, could see where Sophia was coming from, and was stuck at a cross roads. Artemis was his employer, and closest friend, practically a son. The girl slipping away eventually would have the result of Artemis' emotional downfall. He had always repressed them, the pesky things. The sudden release, thanks to his fiancée, had the potential to help, but also drive him to madness. Sophia leaving would trigger some really deep, hidden stuff, unseen since his father's kidnapping.

Sophia was scared. She had just as much to lose. The thought of a life of confinement and expectations, due dates and deadlines, social functions and public parades was nothing she wanted, nor took joy of. She might love Artemis, but she also knew just how bad she would be as a Fowl. Or she though she did. Personally, Butler though she would be an excellent Fowl. Most of the previous Fowl women were strong yes, but unemotional as Artemis, and uncaring (or, rather, unable to do anything about) toward their husband's liaisons with other women. Or men, in some cases. Sophia would stop those traditions and help build the new Fowl empire, a more legit one. The push behind Artemis' pull. He had began the transformation, she would help keep it on track.

Only she was trying to sacrifice personal happiness and Fowl future, unable to face the threats of identity loss and empty freedom.

"You're wrong." The manservant started gently. "He cares more than anything about you. I can prove it."

Sophia sighed, not in the mood for a lecture. "He does care." She agreed. "But not necessarily about what's good for either of us. I can't stay. He can't simply take what he wants whenever he feels I've been naughty. This thing with brainwashing me…and staying engaged! He has to understand it's not going to end well. I'm not suited to be a Fowl. I'd kill the traditions, be totally unready for any of the public stuff, and children! Surely…" She drifted off, only to start her rant again.

"And lately it's been more about what he feels is right, rather than what truly is. Keeping me from that flight won't change things for him, just make them difficult."

"He's trying to turn the Fowl name around. Certain traditions-" Butler coughed, hinting. -are being sacked for more acceptable motos. You would be a perfect canidate to keep those motos and influnce them for the nexted line. Artemis knows you would be perfect for this. And he cares for you deeply."

"Like a master cares for his hound." Sophia huffed. "I'm not ready to be a Fowl."

"Ah. Nobody's ever really ready for marriage. As for running the household? Who said you'd have to say the vows tonight? He'll give you time." Butler winked.

Sophia wrinkled her nose. "No. I'll never...I don't want to. I'm fine as Sophia Iver rather than _Tara Fowl_. " She spat out the name like it was some cursed illness.

"Why are you telling me this?" He inquired softly. The trick the manservant used to get the young lady to open up required this question to be laid on the table, allowing the suspect (or in this case, temporary charge) to think the conversation was all of their own design.

"Oh." She smiled half-heartedly. "I know, you'll tell him and all that. But he should know what he's in for. I'll make life hell if he thinks….Oh, stupid boy. Sorry, Butler. I know, it's getting too emotional for you."

The manservant smiled. Sophia knew of his jaunts with romance novels, she'd caught him with one awhile back.

"It is a soap opera." He agreed. "But I don't think you know the real reason for him keeping you off that plane. I think he literally meant 'off that plane'."

"What? Why would he keep me off a particular flight? Does he have ESP? Sensed a plane crash?"

"Actually, he saw one." Seeing her confused look the manservant chuckled. "There was a plane that went down off the coast two hours ago. Flight 2779. Your name was on the list of perished. We were going to the morgue to ID your body, but he insisted we stop here first. "

"Oh." Sophia said softly. "That's why…oh. My."

"He was going to pieces. That might be why he's a little nervous to let you out of his sight. He can live without you as directly his, but he won't stand to survive knowing you're dead. "

"Then flight—the one that crashed—I nearly took it, but he had all the camera's on it, so I didn't. So I was going to take the one to Newfoundland tonight and then take a flight to New York." She said faintly. "He saved my life, accidentally."

"Can you blame him, lass?" He asked, eyes twinkling. "He's just scared out of his skin of losing you again. That one hour you were 'dead' he was simply empty. I wasn't going to let him see the body. I imagine he was ecstatic to see you alive."

"Yes. Very much so." It justified his actions now, at the very least.

"I don't think he means to keep you here, unless you want to stay?" The way he said it made her think he was asking her to. To stay, that is.

"Perhaps." Sophia didn't know she had said the word until she saw Butler's face brighten for a moment. She had been thinking it, but wasn't going to—there was a knock at the door.

"Come in, sir." Butler called, standing. He turned back to Sophia. "He really is just looking out for you, in his own way. Try not to break his heart." With a wink he left, greeting his employer with a simple nod.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

Artemis kneeled beside her chair. Sophia was staring off into some distant space, gnawing on her lip vigorously, concentration etched in every movement. He glanced at her hands, and saw with a sad sort of pleasure that she wore the ring he had custom ordered. The one with leaves and the single diamond. The white gold rested on the middle finger of her right hand, glittering in the gentle light. Rain pattered down outside, making light, memorable sounds.

He called her name once, then twice before she came back onto the current plane of existents, shuddering to see him and feel the cold the summer rains had brought.

"Sophia." He said again, liking the sound and the person it belonged to. He said it like it was the best thing that came to mind, pronounced every letter to its special sound. Her eyes met his, holding his gaze for the longest time that day. They were pools of bright colour, the blue-green even more apparent than usual for her skin was paler then normal. Had she been eating enough? Or was it just lack of sun?

Nothing met his greeting, simple as it was, but silence. Not angry silence, just a "what-do-you-want?" sort of silence. She didn't care what he had to say, she just wanted him to say it so she could get back to daydreaming.

"I've cancelled your tickets. All of them." He waited, expecting some screams or at the very least glares. Sophia's eyes tightened shut for a moment, she turned her head back to the fire place, and she gave a quick nod but nothing overly dramatic. Artemis internally gave a sigh of relief. The hatred that he saw when she yelled at him for such actions pained him so much, he didn't like hurting her. If it where anyone else he might take joy in ruining their plans, but with her he just felt terrible.

"You can stay until Friday." He decided in a snap. It was Sunday, that gave him five full days. "Then if you want to leave, you can go. I won't stop you." He added, unsure of whether the message was clear in the sentence before. Gods, she made him a fumbling child.

"Why?" She finally asked.

"You have to bury Sasha."

So he was keeping her sister, making her return each year to mourn. At his home. Scheming little…

"Why won't you stop me?" She turned her head back to stare him in the face.

He was silent, debating with himself whether he should tell her the pathetic truth or give some straight-faced lie. _Would it be so straight? _He was tempted to keep things distant, nothing more than a cool acquaintanceship between them. His mother's voice, encouraging and warm, told him to not let the chance slip by.

"Because I want you to be happy." _And I love you. _He added silently.

She turned away, nodding again. "Fine. I'll stay.

Artemis felt his heart sink. _What did you expect? Some sort of great opening? _

The drive took less time than before, though in everyone's mind it was the longest in the world. Sophia sat at one side of the vehicle staring out the window. Artemis sat at the other, sneaking glances at her often. Butler looked back via rear view mirror. He wasn't concerned. Not at all. When two strong-willed people went head to head, reconciling would take time, space, and plenty of quiet thought.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**I didn't expect this. But the characters took hold. Heck, I did play around with killing her off. It was tempting. But I didn't hate Arty enough. I'd already tortured him. Besides, then where would that leave us? Only with two funerals, a bunch of sad people, and me laugh in the background.**

**In the next chapter I shall revel my possible "what-if" story. But first what I want you to do, my dear reader, is go to my profile, click on "Red Sky" my Greek myth story, read it, then return to said profile, and vote on whether it should be continued. That should occupy you until I can get chapter…is it 39(?) up. Then, we're nearly done, my ducklings.**

**Dania**


	39. I Could Never Stop

Rain fell, soft and welcomed. In the five days Sophia had spent back at Fowl Manor it had stopped for two days in a row, Wednesday and Thursday, but had started again early this morning. She had woken up, clutching her light wool blanket around her. Listening to lighting and thunder passing the minutes, a decision was made. Something electrical had sparked in the air, calling her upstairs. The winding stairs to her studio took no time at all.

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

Shadows thrived in the attic studio. She knew the room like her IQ, yet in the darkness it was foreign. A little scary too, with shapes that didn't make sense and flashes of light putting things alive again. Sophia knew where the light switches were, but she didn't bother finding them. The dark was welcoming.

"_Well, darkness and misery always work in pairs, right? Or was it depression and misery?" _Ah, her forgetfulness. One would've thought it would be long gone by now, but alas. It had only grown stronger in the bleakness of recent events.

A shape moved, scaring her out of her wits. It was near the media center, sitting in an armchair, which must have swiveled forward when she entered. A flash of light from outside illuminated Artemis's face for a few seconds. He sat, fingers laced and under his chin, one up resting on his lower lip. The raven hair was unkempt, leaving a wing of soft night-coloured hair to hide half of his face. From the visible side his brow was raised in either surprise or annoyance.

"What are you doing up here?" He asked, eyes flicking over her form, then to the clock on the wall behind her. It was two a.m. Very early. They had a funeral to catch later that morning, not to mention good-byes. And a flight. He knew she had gone to bed early, but had spent a fitful night of two hours of sleep, pacing, tossing and turning, more sleep, then nightmares, fits…Artemis didn't quite trust her enough to turn off the camera in her room. But when Juliet went to bed, instead of waking his manservant Artemis had sat watching her until midnight. Then he had come up here.

Sophia avoided his gaze. In the last four days she had done her best to stay out of his way unless it was absolutely required. Save meal times and whenever he popped in without invitation, she had been successful. When she wasn't, his icy eyes bore into hers asking, no, begging for answers. It was torture. She didn't have good answers for some of those questions.

"Nothing." she answered quickly. His brow went up even higher. Sophia sighed. Thirty seconds in his presence and all acting skills went out the window. He made her feel like a little girl again. Unsure, unbalanced, unready, unexpecting. Just a whole lot of "un" words. "I'm not sure. I just felt like I needed to be here." She sneaked a peek and saw his expression was mostly unchanged, only more _detached_.

Neither of them spoke. Something whispered in Sophia's mind, reminding her of some scene in an old movie. Black and white, the woman in a period dress, head held up high. The man sat in some great, winged fireside chair, older and serious-looking. She had forgotten the story line and the ending, but the images stayed in their eternal colorless world. Maybe it was some old Jane Eyre film. She had always hated that book. Completely depressing.

"So…I'll just go. Bye." Better than staying here, staring at each other.

"No!"

Sophia turned back around, Artemis' hand brushed hers. He was just behind her; they were barely inches from each other. He must have jump the moment she said "go". His recent strength and swiftness was really starting to bother her. Sophia veered back as his hand grasped her own.

"Stay." He said softly. It wasn't a request, more of a polite demand. And she did. She stopped pulling and allowed herself to be drawn nearer and nearer until--

"_**BOOM!!"**_

A hard bolt of lighting followed by a crack of thunder caused them to jerk apart. Sophie shuddered. "That sounded really close." Her voice was small. Storms were one of her childhood fears.

"Yes." Artemis agreed. "It-" but he was interrupted by the flood of cool, wet air. The windows had been flung open with a "bang" by the violent currents, droplets of water were moving horizontally indoors. Sophia uttered a low gasp, then rushed to close them. Artemis did the same, starting from the opposite row. By design, obviously. He wanted to start where they had left off, ambush if he had to.

They met in the middle window, hands touching. Sophia pushed him out of the way, latching it herself, then pushed the wet locks of hair out of her face, smiling. "That was something to wake a person up." There was another roll of thunder and she shivered. Artemis, unable to contain himself, held her tightly. Gods, was he really going to say good-bye tomorrow? She dropped the blanket, it fell into a damp puddle of wool at her feet. He felt that she was still shivering, was it him or the cold? It didn't matter, he just held on. Eventually she relaxed, and Artemis tentatively brought a hand up to massage her head. Sophie sighed. This was unfair, he knew exactly what to do. She leaned closer, their foreheads touched.

Another bolt hit the ground just outside the window, but neither noticed. Artemis whispered something she didn't catch and slid his hands to her waist. Sophia put hers on the sides of his face, keeping eye contact. This could be their last intimate time together. That good-bye kiss had been nice, but it wasn't "Good-bye". Silent, she raised her face to his, then offered her lips, pursing them. It did not take anymore persuasion.

Hungrily, Artemis kissed her, Sophie returning it equally. This was a good-bye, and they both knew it. Twice as good as the one in her apartment, it couldn't be compared to any sort of explosion known to man. Perhaps twelve atomic bombs. Maybe it was the electricity from the storm, or the sexual tensions from the last five days. Whatever it was, it was meant to be. Rain pelted them, the windows had been opened again, not that either cared.

Artemis all put carried her to the nearest chair, where she put her legs around his waist, both hands gripping his head, pulling him closer. He bit her bottom lip, making her moan. Yes, definitely an atomic kiss. Artemis kept his hands on her hips, not letting her pull out. Not that Sophie wanted to. Not at all.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Hours seemed to pass in that one making out session, then in a period of restful silence, basking in the simple joy of just being together, before Artemis spoke. Breath ragged, he whispered while massaging Sophia's scalp, her still-damp form curled in his lap.

"Stay."

Sophia shifted, making an inquiring noise. She was sleepy, about to drift off, and hadn't heard. "Mmm…wha?"

"Stay." He said it louder, more persistently.

The young woman bolted up right, causing Artemis's hands to fall back. She stared at him, wide-eyed for one whole minute, then she leaned back, moaning.

"Artemis. You know…gods, must you? This is hard enough with…this!" She gestured between the two of them.

Artemis felt his heart drop. _So she's still planning to leave._ "I can't…we cannot. Do you understand? I would ruin your career. You wouldn't be happy, I wouldn't be happy. Your parents would be furious! We-"

"My parents adore you. Unless you were to go into my offices and massacre all of my employees, there's little you can do to ruin Fowl Industries." He impatiently tapped his fingers on the chair's arm, taking the time to lace one of her hands with his again. Confidence was key to convincing anyone of anything, be it a business negotiation or a girl with so silly notion of self-sacrifice.

"I would be ecstatic to marry you, and do everything within my power to ensure you are completely satisfied with the relationship. Regardless of your doubts, I am quite certain I would be much more than simply "Happy". Happiness is in fairy tales. My joy wouldn't be compared to mere words." His eyes suddenly brightened.

"And you already know all of this." He said slowly, taking satisfaction in her well-hidden knowledge. By mentioning those problems in which she already knew the answer, she threw him off the scent of her real concern. One she apparently didn't want him to be aware of. "So what is really worrying you?"

Sophia sighed. He could be such a bother sometimes.

"No, Artemis. None of your mind games tonight." Stupid psychology degree. He couldn't choose some other science?

The billionaire's mood suddenly darkened. "If that's what it takes to convince you. Hilariously enough, you used the same arguments as Tara when I proposed." he spat forcibly. "In spite of who you were, I believe that agreement still stands, even if you shed your alias. "

"No." He would not convince her through guilt. That didn't work for her sister, it won't work for him.

"Then what was that, Sophie?" His acting lent a hand, finally. Blunt refusals hurt. The smooth taunting he shot back was just a smokescreen. It did its job. "If you don't agree, why respond in such a manner?" He slid a finger down her arm starting from the shoulder, drawing patterns of Celtic knots, formulas and swirling vines in her flesh.

"Hormones, you idiotic teen." Sophie hissed through gritted teeth. _Gods, why does he have to be so…!_ In times like this, she truly _hated _the effect her had on her. "Nothing but a natural chemical attraction. I'm surprised you missed that in your biology classes at Saint Bartleby's. Professor J was an amateur I know, but still I would figure you of all people would have understood simply chemical balances. "

Artemis was surprised, not that he displayed it. He hadn't foreseen her research to be thorough. She knew his school, his classes and educators as well. Possibly even a few classmates. He was impressed. Such deep studying into small detail was only something somebody did when they wanted to cover all angles. It appeared Sophia had made a few mistakes in previous venture, having most definitely learned from them.

Henry Jenkins, the teacher mentioned above, instructed his students to call him "Professor J". He was green when Artemis took his class, made a lot of common mistakes such as treating the boys of St. Bartleby's like friends. Three years total as a teacher when Artemis's class rolled in. Artemis could have taught the class twice as fast (Obviously. It was as much in most of his classes), perhaps even moved as far as online simulated frog dissection, which would have been cheaper, kinder to the frogs that lived in the pond in back of the school, and all over less repulsive to the students. When Artemis had left the dimwits behind they were still cutting open mealworms.

"But it's so much more than that." Artemis assured her, shifting her slightly on his lap so as to get a better look at her. And to prevent his leg from falling asleep. They'd been in that position for a while. "You don't want to leave anymore than I want to let you go."

"Wow, then you should've sent me packing ages ago, because I really, really want to say '_Ciao'_ for the last time, Arty." She snapped back. Then, an afterthought with a more rueful tone: "I will miss the studio terribly. Pity, really. All the time I spent on it…"

He was tempted to make this banter short. Sophie was obviously tired if she was resorting to such transparent tactics. Yet…he had to give it some shot. He would never forgive himself if he didn't try to convince her. And Artemis had a profusion of eternal unforgiving toward himself.

"Why won't you stay?" Artemis hated to resort to something so close to begging, but it had to be done. "That was more than chemical attraction. You know it. What's your excuse, Sophia? Why?"

When she looked back on this time, Sophia would summon this particular moment with that most clarity. Every hint of movement, everything reflected in Artemis's eyes she would see it down to minute detail. Not that she relived this memory for any sort of joy. Just when she was alone at night, wondering.

In those seconds there was a huge breaking point in Sophia's reasoning, in all of her assumptions. It was monumental. The Great Artemis Fowl the Second international thief, genius, businessman, billionaire, and a hell of a lot more things, was a _man_.

One that she would hurt very, very much by dumping.

The thought that she would hurt Artemis was one that had haunted her mind for the longest time; that's why she'd given up the plot to plunder his gold. He'd been her friend, her only friend apart from her sister. Then his rage after he had discovered said plot convinced her of his mere fondness, obsessive-possessive caring. She hadn't wanted to hurt him, but did not quite regret it so much after she ran away. Now, here again in the Manor, sitting in his lap, for the _gods' sake_, it was hard to ignore the realization crashing down upon her.

Artemis was perfectly sane, he had emotions just like any other person (though all evidence said they were either nonexistent or severely repressed at times), and would be so deeply hurt by her…perhaps not as much if she had died in that crash, but still hurt. He might not express it in any normal way, but then again, neither would Sophia herself. She knew she underestimated Artemis's fondness, no _love_, of her so very much to think that either of them could just walk away from the situation unscathed.

She was beginning to damn every moment she spent here, every time Sasha had convinced her with a _"It'll go_ _fine!"_ in referring to the plan, and every single inch of emotional pain she'd given everyone, especially Artemis Fowl. But most of all, she was damning herself.

"Because." Sophia swallowed. "Maybe I don't love you anymore."

Cliché as the line was, it did the job.

Artemis sat so still Sophia feared he stopped breathing.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

For the briefest second, Artemis believed. Then he looked at Sophia. Really looked at the girl in his lap. The blue-green eyes were wide and watery, reddening slowly. Then she shut them, in obvious pain. Still. Her acting was sorely lacking at this time of the day…or night (it was three a.m., technically it could be either or).

Part of Artemis wondered if perhaps he was projecting, then quickly shooed the thought away. Everything from her pulse (a trick Butler had taught him), expression, to her body language spoke otherwise. She was lying to him. That was frustrating, because now he couldn't tell if she merely didn't _want _to marry him, or if perhaps she honestly thought he was better off without her.

Still, it hurt. Even in the darkest hour, she'd firmly defended her emotion. Just hearing the words, however empty, caused a ricocheting burning in his chest the refused to go away, no matter how many times he reminded himself she was attempting to deceive him.

"Sophie,"

Tears rolled down her pale, perfect face. Her cheeks and nose were pink, damp and shiny. Snot was forming on her bridge between her nostrils and upper lipp. He hated to see her cry. The tiny vengeful side of him said she deserved it. Today he agreed.

"Sophie," He said again. She had been looking at him, not making any sort of noise or movement to show she'd heard. Artemis, concerned, shook her gently.

"Arty." She gasped finally. "I'm so sorry." Another wave of silent tears. Luckily he was just wearing a dress shirt, and an old one at that. The tag did say **"DRY CLEAN ONLY"** for a reason.

"Sophia." He repeated three minutes later when the racking sobs had ceased a decent amount, forcing her to look up from where she had nestled her head just under his chin. It fit perfectly, as usual. "It's okay. I understand. I can't say my feelings have changed, but…I understand."

Sophia put a hand over her mouth, squeezing her eyes shut again. Tears came again. Artemis waited.

"I-I am s-so s-s-sorry." Her voice came out in gasping breathes. A constant pulse told Artemis she was sincere, she was _very_ sorry. "If there was a-any other w-way…I-I'd—oh Artemis!"

He patted her back, unsure of what to do next. Truth be told, there wasn't really anything he could do. The only people who could help either of them was each other, and that source of comfort did not appear to be forthcoming. Sighing, Artemis cradled Sophie. She would need someone to aid her today was her sister's funeral. Somebody had to be there to hold her hand and pass out the tissues.

Mournfully, Artemis watched the rain, which was still moving horizontally, and was still pouring indoors. The windows hadn't been closed. Pity, the hardwood floor was nearly two centuries old.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Walking down the gray stone path, Sophia considered many things. Her sister's death. The last three weeks. The last year. An uncertain future. Recent decisions. And last night.

That last thought caused her to glance left, to the man striding beside her, dressed in a black suit, hair smoothed back, and umbrella in hand. Very different from last night. Even in pace, he stared straight forward. She internally sighed. Contrary to his belief, silence would not help her decision in the least. It would only serve frustrate her more. This ceremony, hard enough as it was, only became more difficult with Artemis's refusal to speak. He was practically ignoring her. Sophia might have said as much, if he hadn't said good morning, replied all of her questions and offered his arm as they made their way downstairs to the garden.

When Sophia had returned to her room, she found an outfit lying on the already made bed. Numb, she slipped on the dress, panty hose, and jacket. Juliet must have picked it out days earlier. The smooth fabric hung loose on her body. She'd already dropped a size, having eaten very little in her five days at Fowl Manor. The dress was designer, black with a swirling patter in a darker black, reaching a little above her knee. The jacket was of a heavier cloth, charcoal coloured with pearl buttons. Juliet had been smart in her choice; it was a set Sophia could easily wear on the plane.

Sophia also wore sunglasses, black, simple, slim frames even though it was overcast and drizzling. Artemis made no comment. Neither did Juliet or her brother. They simple fell into step behind Artemis and Sophia, nearly five meters away. It soon turned into seven meters. Then ten. They appear to be giving the couple some space for a private chat, one that neither wanted to have. Or so Sophia assumed.

"Are you alright with a priest?"

Her head snapped up. She'd been staring at the ground, thinking up the names for gray in various languages. When there was nothing left to do, it had often been a game she'd play. Really, the idea had been Sasha's. She had used it to remain fluent. Sophia thought it a wonderful way to pass the time and learn new adjectives.

"A priest?" Why would they need a holy man?

"To say some prays." Artemis replied quietly. "I believe your family is Catholic." He said it like a statement, not a question.

"Yes." Sophia swallowed. "We are. I mean, were."

Artemis grimaced slightly at the correction. "Would you mind much, then, if-"

"Not at all." Sophia cut him off, halting in the middle of the walk. He paused a few steps ahead, turning back. "And thank you. For arranging this."

His cold expression softened. "Sophie, you don't need to thank me. It's what anyone would do. I was afraid you were going to leave without saying a proper good-bye. This is the least I can do for you."

Sophia didn't know if by "good-bye" he meant one to him, or one directed toward her sister. She would ponder it later. Now she had other business. Taking the few feet that separated them she took Artemis's hands into hers. He squeezed her fingers, briefly closing his eyes like he was trying to save the memory.

"It's something that a lot of people wouldn't do, Artemis." Her voice was serious and low. "Something I don't think I could stand to do if I was in your place. I know…" She drifted off, eyes becoming unfocused. "I know…. Can we talk after this is over?"

Artemis blinked. "Of course."

"Artemis?" Butler had rounded the corner and stood before them, eye brows raised. "It's nearly time."

Artemis remained frozen. This was how he had imagined a much different day. Sophie (He had long since adopted the familiar nickname) sneaking in to see him one last time, Butler warning him it was about to start…only, certain people would be dressed in white and Butler would have a corsage pinned to his lapel. That was all gone now. How had his plans been left in such array?

"Ah." He removed his hands and straightened himself, pulling on the cuff of his jacket and his collar, smoothing away imaginary wrinkles. Sophia stepped back, turning to Butler with a sad smile.

"You look dashing."

Another line Artemis had credited to his wedding day. It was a tease. Butler wore black suits everyday; Artemis doubted that Sophia had ever seen him in anything else. How like her it was to be cracking jokes at her sister's funeral. But she'd had plenty of time to cry in the last weeks. When there were no more tears, why not amuse yourself with a few chuckles? Besides, her sister wouldn't thank her for the sobs, anyhow.

"Thank you, Miss Iver."

Sophia gave another smile. "Sophia." She corrected, with a gentle nod.

"Shall we?" Artemis asked quietly. She merely nodded and grabbed his arm, one he hadn't even offered yet. He felt a bit smug, but that quickly died. Perhaps she only needed it for moral support. Or help to walk, it was hard to tell.

The next moments passed in steady stride toward the farthest corner of the garden. Secluded, quiet, and in an area hardly anyone visited (being a far walk, it was less tempting than the hedge maze or fountains) the red corner was perfect for laying Sasha to rest. Sophia reported red had been her sister favourite colour. The square had only red, pink, and orange flowers. Its opposite had blue, turquoise, gray and other cool colours of greenery and its own fountain. Tara often went there to mediate, saying the calm shades helped in letting her mind go.

Eventually they arrived. Juliet, a priest, an a small group of Ivers stood around the opening in the earth, a mass of umbrellas and dark cloth. A few people greeted Sophia, nodding and giving small smiles. Sophie, ever the actress, returned them. Her hands shook, though that was part of the cover. She'd already done her "numb-I-can't-believe-this-is-happening" period of the mourning. Even if this was only family and friends, she wasn't about to let them see her really cry.

The Iver sisters did have a few surviving relatives, which included their uncle in Bali, an elderly aunt in Liverpool, twin cousins in California, a step-grandmother and grandfather in Argentina, some other cousins on their father's side that were university students in Dublin and another uncle in Moscow. The aunt, cousins, step-grandmother and Sasha's close friend, who had worked for their father but now owned a deli down the street from their apartment, had all come to the Manor under Sophia's request. They were the only trusted friends and family, the un-honest ones having disappeared years ago.

Sophia took her place, front and center beside Artemis, one hand on the coffin. They had told everyone Sasha died in the plane crash Artemis had originally thought Sophie to have died in. A perfect excuse for a closed casket service before the burial. Sophia ran her hand along the flat wood, squishing the droplets of water that had collected on its surface. The cold rain felt nice on her cut palms. Artemis nudged her, giving her a "_Ready?" _sort of look. She nodded, pulling back her hand.

The priest began prays in Latin, slow and deliberate in each passage, sprinkling holy water on the casket when called for. Each word was said like a song. Sophia followed along in her head, wondering for the millionth time why people didn't still speak Latin. Such a lovely language was wasted on Mass and classification of species. Poetry would be ten times what it was if written in the old tongue . She wasn't really paying attention, and was the last one to say "Amen". Then it was time to say a few words. The priest smiled kindly, gesturing for her to take her spot beside the corpse.

Artemis had been in a rush to plan this, therefore it was untraditional. Normally these soft praises to the dead were said at the viewing, and by family friends. In this service, the two were combined. Both funeral and viewing. Prays were said by an unknown priest, the only one handy, and to top it off the prays were in Latin. For a swiftly arranged service, he thought it was going quite nicely.

Sophia stepped up to stand on the other side of the casket, eyes downcast. When she looked up, the speech was still forming, though it was near completion. She had assured Artemis one would be written. If she played it out right, he might believe her ad-libbing.

"My sister wasn't very happy during her last few days." Her voice was slowly reverting back to original accent, somewhere between an Irish brogue, English vowels, and hints French drawl mixed with quick ends from the Spanish her mother taught her. All in all it was a unique sound. She could influence one or more of the accents to make a sole nationality.

"She was leaving us to return to New York." Several family members smiled, recalling the young woman's love of the big city. "And I didn't want her to leave. We fought-" What an understatement. "-about it all the time. She was old enough to go. But I thought she wasn't ready, she didn't have enough control, she'd go off her medicine. And told her as much. I regret the things I said, and I am sure she had too, when she boarded that plane. "

Sophia cleared her throat. "You didn't know our family very well due to Da's job, and we didn't really know yours. But I am sure grateful that you're here today with your support. Things have hard. They're getting harder. So I'd just like to say, thank you for coming. Sasha is smiling down on us today."

That speech had been mainly directed toward the family. Filled with backgrounds from previous lies, it wasn't too difficult to say. However, the second act…

"Butler, Juliet." Both bodyguard looked up, expressions controlled. "Thank you too, for your help in this. I don't think I'd have made it through with out you."

"Artemis…" Sophia paused. "That goes double for you."

Impersonal as the thanks may have sounded, she had a better one for after the service.

The priest stood again, leading the small group in one last pray before the coffin was lowered gently into the hole by the grounds man and his assistant. Before it hit the bottom, Sophia tossed a burgundy rose onto the black polished wood face, and straightened to say farewell to attendees. Perhaps for the last time.

Butler, Juliet, and Artemis all stood back as she gave hugs, kisses, handshakes, and other parting rituals before approaching her as the last cousin ambled off. Juliet offered a hug while her brother placed a massive hand on Sophia's shoulder. She smiled up at him, reassuring both Butlers that she was perfectly fine. Artemis agreed with her personal evaluation. She was fine. Sad, yes. But she'd done all of her crying, and was in the firm belief that her sister was probably better off in some afterlife than to spend one more day tortured by voices and confusion. It was a hopeful sign. In the brief times Artemis had spend with her in the last five days she had been very, very quiet. He assumed it was guilt. Now he had a sneaking suspicion that it was not her dead sister, but in fact Artemis himself. His own surprise by that fact made him a victim of self-scolding for not noting it before. Of course she was uncomfortable around him, any moron with a Ph.D in psychology could have figured that out. And it didn't take much more brainpower to know why.

"Would you like…some time alone?" He gestured to the gravesite, which was being filled by the grounds man and his assistant.

The young woman shook her head firmly, her mouth set in a grim line. "No, but thank you." Her expression softened. "I've said my good-byes…to her."

He winced at the rather blunt hint. Shortly, if no one could convince her otherwise, Sophie would board the Fowl's own private jet heading straight to New York. She would return once a year to mourn her sister's passing and setting business affairs in the country. It took wheedling from Juliet to convince her to stay at Fowl Manor during her visits. Juliet had confided in Artemis that Sophie burst into tears at her request, saying she'd rather have her hair plucked out one by one than return every year. "I don't want to want him to watch as my life goes by, getting his hopes up every time, and vice versa!" Sophia had moaned. While the statement broke his heart it also proved she still cared for him, in some, perverse, unshakable form.

"Will you walk with me?"

Artemis nodded, assuming she wanted that talk.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

They didn't leave the garden. Instead, Sophie led him to the fountain pavilion where he'd first planned to propose.

This seemed to be an odd pattern. Last night they were in the studio, another place he had attempted to ask in. _Where next, the forest?_ Artemis winced. Trampling through the wood in these clothes did not appeal to him at all.

She sat on the stone edge of the pool, dipping her fingers into the water. The rain had let up a little, it only sprinkled light drops. Sophia flicked off her sunglasses, sliding them into her coat pocket. _No sun yet, thank_ _goodness._ A muggy, humid day would not be to her liking. At the current temperature, a cool, damp breeze, her plans were already askew.

"Such a shame." She murmured. "That we must part on these terms. 'I leave it you last saw it, disheveled by your hands'."

"Lady Sono No Omi Ikuha." Artemis said suddenly, "'Everybody Tells Me'. 1976 translation."

Sophie smiled and nodded in approval. "One of my personal favourites, though I can't claim to be a big fan of Japanese poetry. It's choice of words that agreed with me."

Artemis didn't reply, choosing to instead lean on the low wall across from the fountain, supported by his palms. Neither spoke. Sophia examining her nails, Artemis looking around. Awkwardness wasn't something either could afford at this moment, not that they paid attention to that fact. Taking all the time to gather her bearings, Sophia politely waited for Artemis speak first.

"I want you to stay."

Sophie glanced up. "I know."

The young man sighed. By this point in time, Artemis was ready to beg. He hoped he wouldn't have to resort to this. But there was no other alternative. Sophie wasn't just dropping their life, their plans, their _future. _

"I'm hoping that will be enough."

She gave a faint smile. "It is, darling. However, your happiness means more to me than that."

"You have a terribly perverse idea of happiness."

"Yes." She agreed, expression apologetic. "But in the long run you will be happy."

"Do you have evidence to prove that theory?" Artemis demanded, voice sharp.

"Quite a lot, actually." Her voice remained calm.

Artemis threw his hands up in aggravation. Debating wasn't going to help the situation. Every complicated tactic had so far fail; time to attempt something simpler.

"Why?"

"You've already tried that." Sophia said lazily, lying on the capstones, gaze turned to the water where droplets created rings on the once-glass surface. She could imagine fat dragonflies flitting across the pool, like they use to do back at home. Metallic green, silver, blue, and turquoise, pretty net wings that flashed and fluttered in the sunlight.

Quite abruptly she was pulled up into a sitting position held by Artemis. He kneeled before her, eyes flaming. If Sophia hadn't been so shocked, she might have been annoyed. But shock left hardly any room for much else. It was unlike Artemis to manhandle her when thing were so serious.

"We have only three hours." His voice was shaking slightly. "Sophie, for god's sake, just answer! Before you leave at least give me that." _Why must you make everything so difficult?_

Sophia, still staggered, actually did the unexpected. "I-I don't think you really like me. You proposed to Tara and well, I…I'm Sophia. You can't simple pick one and get both. Artemis I'm not Tara! I am Sophia Iver, somebody completely different. I'm sorry but you're in love with…basically an imaginary person. Your claim to love me, even be fond of me, isn't valid. I think maybe…" Her voice got very small. "Maybe you're projecting what you want me to be, who you want me to be. And I can't be Tara Gavin all of my life."

Artemis promptly dropped his hands. She'd said something to that effect a few days ago, not that he'd paid much attention to the comment. Yet, she couldn't be right. Artemis _knew _Sophia as well as he knew Tara, a truth be it he had a lot more feelings toward the real girl. In all the time he'd observed her when he knew she wasn't putting on some act Artemis became certain of his feelings.

Sophie, concerned by his silence, gently prodded his elbow. "Artemis? Do you want me to leave?"

There was no answer.

"Artemis?" She asked again.

Nothing. Sophia waited, hoping he'd just snap out of it. After three full minutes of silence, Sophie was alarmed. _He might be going in to shock!_ She thought, distresses. Her logic, which had been banished to the deepest corners of her mind with all of her sarcasm, shook it head, scolding. _You're acting like a ninny. _It said.

He was still on his knees in front of her. Sophie put her hands on either side of his face, rubbing the area beside his eyes where the eyebrows stopped. That particular spot help relieve stress. Then the young woman mentally slapped herself. It wasn't that place! The place where the ear and jaw connected, that was it! How could she have forgotten? All it took was to slide her hands down and processed to massage the stretch of skin.

"A-Artemis?" There was still no response. "Artemis?!"

Sophia rubbed vigorously, bring her face closer to his. He was really scaring her.

In another ten seconds Artemis gasped, a shudder running through his body. Sophia gave a tiny surprised sound herself, then hugged him. "Are you alright? Can you speak? Don't do that to me, I was so worried, you great prick…"

"I'm fine." He panted. "Just…delayed reaction from your…news last night. "

Her mood suddenly changed. She dropped her arms. "Of course."

"Thank you."

"No problem."

Another awkward silence. What was there to say? Good-bye? Sophie had brought him here for a reason. There must be something she wanted to say.

"I am so, so sorry things cannot work out." Her voice was soft, quiet, apologetic. "I…I tried, Artemis, I really did. I want to be right. But there isn't any way."

Artemis had a spark. It was tricky, she could potentially deck him, but if successful would be more than worth it.

"Do you love me?"

She frowned. "I told you last night—"

"You told me." Artemis eyes were glinting with his usual brilliant mayhem. "But you didn't prove it to me. You're a terrible liar at two in the morning. Most of the time I cannot detect any deceit. However," he said, voice growing stronger. "your voice was on target. Nearly."

"I don't love you."

He continued as through he hadn't heard.

"As good as you are at lying, I am more than willing to gamble that you cannot look me in the eye and say your pretenses, Sophie." He looked her coolly in the eye, taking in some pleasure as she flinched. "Care to challenge that bet?"

"What are your wagers?"

Artemis gave his usual sly smile. "You know my demands."

"No."

His gaze softened. Neither of them reacted when he took her hand. "Sophie, do you want to stay?"

"No…no, I do not want to stay." Her voice faded, expression weak. She absolutely hated it when Artemis had the upper deck. There was nothing she could do about it. They were just going around in circles. Unless she just said what he wanted, her flight would be delayed. After all, Artemis controlled the plane, the car taking her to the airport, and just about everything else she needed. All promises aside, he could easily keep her the entire day, or until 11:59:59 if it so humored him.

Artemis moved swiftly to cup her face in his hands, forcing her gently to look at him. Sophia couldn't even break his grip. A surprise, for Artemis wasn't known for his physical strength. _Has he been working out? _She wondered. Artemis hated any physical exercise. Maybe it was her subconscious again.

"Sophie." The seriousness in his tone stopped all the struggling. "Do you love me?"

"No." Her own voice cracked slightly on the vowel. _"__**Shut **__**UP**__!" _her mind yelled. Not that she paid it any attention. When had she heeded its excellent advice?

The expected then happened. Artemis, of course, kissed her. It was like the night before, atomic. Big, perfect. In sync. Thousands of words could describe the moment, yet there were none. But neither tried. They were too busy.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The jacket lay on the flagstones, damp from the still drizzle. Sophia had liked it, and it really was a shame that the wool now had a large tear in the back. Vaguely, she thought of mending it later, then brushed away the idle design. More important things ought to fill her mind, like Artemis. Speaking of which-

A low mumble and then a jabbing on her shoulder broke her thought. For all the times it had happened, this pattern should be called habit. A fight, a kiss, then waking up ages later beside each other. Well, she woke up. Artemis had a tendency to sleep in.

Sophie glanced up. Artemis's face was above hers. Arms held her possessively close, legs tucked to fit the curve of hers. Deep, steady breathing told her he was still snoozing. How they had fallen asleep? No matter, the problem now was waking up.

Everything felt so perfect Sophia was tempted to stay in the semi-aware state she was currently in. Alas, the need to remember recent even was great. The last thing she could recall was their argument, then…he asking if she loved him…the lie and then…and then…Oh. Sophie felt her cheeks flame. _Oh, my._ _Wow. _They hadn't gotten that far before.

She rolled over, looking at the pavilion ceiling. After they started somehow they'd moved into the covered patio where the Fowls had afternoon tea and company parties in the summer. Wide benches ran along the length, ones so big they could double as short tables if needed. Angeline normally had thick cushions attached, making the seats considerably smaller, but they were removed as a result of the recent downpours. The space was just large enough for two bodies to fit comfortably, something Artemis and Sophia had taken advantage of. Today they were damp, like their occupants, from the sprinkles of H2o falling from the clouds.

Important things needed to be considered. _Am I staying? Can I leave after this? Or would that drive him so over the edge that he'd…that something could happen? _Sophia wanted to stay, wanted to so bad. But the desire for Artemis's safety and happiness was a stronger pull. A sun's gravitational pull in comparison to the moon's.

"_Why couldn't you stay? Give it a shot?"_Sophia cringed at the voice's intrusion into her thoughts. Strangely, it was the same one that had tried to convince her she didn't need Artemis, back in Italy. _"Don't you want to?"_

"_I'm no good for Artemis. Besides, in the long run, I'll hurt him more by staying."_

"_Do you even hear yourself?! You've hurt him the most by saying you're going to leave! You will be saving him by staying, have you seen how this boy acts when he thinks you're gone?'_

Sophie knew this was simple logic but somehow…_"It's not that simple."_

"_It's not that hard, either. You are both more than smart enough to make thing work."_

"_And if they don't?"_

"_Then you can decide."_

"_But I can…can't just…"_

"_WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? How did Gavin raise a girl so stupid? You can! You will! Don't even think about avoiding this! You've run away all of your life, now face the problem like an adult! "_ The voice yelled, scaring her. Ironic. She was scaring herself. "_ Are you staying or are you leaving? Are you going to take the easy route by turning your back on the last thing left, or are you staying to figure it out?"_

"_What do you want me to do? Ruin his reputation, career, life's work, life in general, house, family-"_

"_Do you think he cares?" _The voice demanded. _"Hasn't the poor boy proven enough already that he doesn't give any damn about that? You're the one that is holding it all together. Artemis would go to pieces if you weren't there anymore."_

"_I—I can be sure of that."_

"_There is little in life one can be sure of. That's what makes it worth living." _The voice answered wryly.

She could hardly disagree with that statement; she'd preached the same to Artemis on their first meeting. As the rules of debate, Sophie forfeited. Whoever her voice represented, they were right. Terribly right. _"What should I do?" _she asked in a small voice.

It chuckled. _"You'll know when the time comes." _

"_What? That's cliché and stupid! No, tell me—"_

A squeeze interrupted her silent argument. A cold hand trailed down her spin, ending just below her waist. Somebody was awake. The legs beside hers shifted, the breath in her ear lightened.

"Sophie?" Just a whisper. Barely louder than the drizzle around them.

Silent, Sophia simply reached over to grasp Artemis's hand, still on her back.

"Stay." He breathed, a low moan echoing in the tones. Her head shifted to fit under his chin. Trembling, Sophia nodded. There was a sharp intake of air.

"Yes." She whispered, closing her eyes again. Now that they had the whole day, she was going to catch up on some sleep. Now that they had many, many years ahead of them, she was going to tell him "I love you" every day.

Artemis sat up, cradling the half of Sophie leaning on him in his arms, looking down. Scanning her face, his expression relaxed a hint. He thought it was perhaps a cruel joke. "Sophie?"

Groaning, she waved a hand in his general direction. "Whatsyourprobl'm?" came the drowsy murmur.

"Are you staying?" He demanded.

The exhausted young woman cracked an eye. "Yes, Arty." She stretched, then curled, sweeping a hand down to pick up Artemis's fallen jacket. Wrapping it around her, she closed both eyes again, yawning. "I am. Forever." Her voice lowered as she drifted.

"Forever and ever, until you don't want me there any more."

Artemis sat up fully, keeping a hold on her, leaning his back on a beam. As Sophia slowly drifted, inside his mind he sang, cheered, danced…he had not been so happy in a very, very long time. In fact, Artemis could not recall such jubilation. Perhaps it was true, that saying about how it is always the darkest before the dawn. _At least this time, there is a dawn to come._

As night slowly overtook the pair, Artemis planned and thought, but his mind kept coming back to one sole thing. Stroking the rust-coloured locks that lay in his lap, he knew nothing would ever beat this moment.

"Forever." He said softly in wonder, looking down at the person in his lap that was now his for that long amount of time.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**READ THIS!!**

**And so we reach what is the next to last chapter. Basically the end.**

**However, I have some offers. You, my duckling, have me as putty in your hands. I have some "What-if-ers" that are in 1st to third chapter form. The better thing for you is, there are _two_ of them. Two very different alternative endings. Can anyone guess...**

**Nah, I'm not that mean. I'll go ahead and tell you.**

**Story 1: Artemis either catching Sophie before he has that change of heart OR she never had the chance to escape at all. So we're mind-wiping her! There is no second option. We just are. So what will Tara Gavin be like? Can Sophia break the walls and take back her memories as Artemis did? Will they get married? Will I be as kind of an author, dishing out the poetic justice?**

**No. No, I will not. **

**Honestly, I can't say, I'm still working on the plot. But I can tell you this story will be darker and fully full of misery. I haven't done anything too depressing yet, have I?**

**This will undoubtably be called "What the Voices Cry", so as to make it easier to you who DID NOT add me as your fave author, story, or on any alerts. And because I'm being so kind as to do this, you should totally add me right now!!**

**Moving on!**

**Story # 2: Takes place after this chapter. Only, Sophie leaves. They makeout, then she leaves. If you didn't miss that one part above, you'll know she's coming back every year, STAYING at the Manor, and a bunch of other stuff. I'm making it maybe 6, 8, or 10 years down the road (yes, I have a fondness for even numbers. I mean, come on. They're EVEN! Nobody gets left out.), making Arty in real life, 30, not so-many years (3) older than the world thinks. Sophia comes home to find Artemis is basically being suicidal over the last months (he's been fairy quiet and not trying to kill himself over the last few years, apparently) and is somewhat on his last leg. However, he wants one more adventure. One that only Sophia Iver can provide. Or rather, her blood can...'**

**No, I am not making Artemis a vampire!! Dorks, it's some great family-blood/inheiritance thingy! And possibly some undercurrents of Arty's ...**

**I'm thinking about combinding them into one big 2-part fan fiction. But maybe not**

**So, we shall wait and see. I'm not positive over the release date. I want to finish, or at least get near to finishing Red Sky and Last Impressions. **

**Read Red Sky, by the way, it rocks. **

**Dania**


	40. With Merely Time and Space

Forever wasn't there yet, but when we arrive at this point in the story, it has been a while. 15 years, in fact. Sophia was 36, the proud mother of two, soon to be three. She was the first in a long line of Fowls before her to have multiple children; previous generations had only one to save any confusion over inheritance. Oh, and she was a Fowl, as well. Married for twelve years.

They had waited for two years. Sophie had wanted to fly through a quick wedding at the Manor by the following Sunday. However, Artemis gently refused, saying she was rushing in, they would regret it decades later, et cetera. Quite a different song from the one he'd sang only days before. In the end, there was an agreement for separate living spaces, and a yearlong rest. It took three, with the additional year of planning. Angeline wanted the best for her new appendage to the family. Though she was restricted from making it the ceremony biggest Dublin had ever seen, nobody could stop her from hiring Vera Wang and Martha Stewart, not to mention the same fellow who made Princess Di's cake.

"Angeline, really." Sophie had moaned while perky blonde assistants pinned up sheer nets and smooth silks. "When the bill is over half a million…"

"Nonsense," her future mother-in-law clucked. "Mine was three times as much, though not nearly so pretty. Annie," She cried to one small figure that sat sketching possible designs. "That shape is absolutely _darling!_ And let's keep up that lighting. Yes. Mmhmm. Yes. Oh, of course. Candles, I think. What scent?"

"Lily." Sophie called as the assistances fitted a veil. "Or roses. But the candles have got to be white. And not too tall. I can recall more than one occasion that I've scared the bride's mother by catching a purse on fire ."

Angeline glanced over appreciatively to the girl who was already a great friend, the daughter she never had, then smiled to Annie. "I believe she's quite right. Once again. But nothing too strong, dear. Keep it light."

"No reason to smother the guests." Added Sophia, grinning. "Too much. Although it would be nice to give some back, after they've embraced me so damn much."

"Language, Sophie." Mrs. Fowl said lightly. Her daughter's middle class upbringing was something of an amusement to her, Arty certainly never cussed like that. "Remember, these people are vultures. One sign of annoyance or dislike it will surely be in the tabloids tomorrow. "

"Wouldn't that just make my honeymoon?" She mused. "Hey, Arty is a better player when he's mad."

Angeline turned a little pink, but chortled along with the assistances anyhow.

The wedding was brilliant. Angeline even danced a few herself, earning a photo or two in the papers as she and "Jimmy" did the swing. Still, Sophia got the most attention in her creamy white, dove gray, and emerald green creation of a dress with tear-drop jewels dripping from her veil (a last-minute gift from the groom), then in the stunning blue reception gown. No one could argue, it was a to-die-for event.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

In three more years, Sophia and Artemis Fowl had their firstborn.

"Artemis the Third." Sophia proudly declared to the stunned father. Seeing his worried glance, she frowned. "Don't be sexist, Arty. Just because she's a girl…"

"No!" Artemis protested, still a little faint. There had been a lot of blood. And screaming. It reminded him of B'wa Kell days when he was a child trying to save the fairy underworld. Again. At least, in this event he got something a little more worth-while. "It's not that! I'm wondering if you want some more. "

Needless to say, the glowing new mother punched him promptly after that statement.

Artemis III had blue eyes like her father's, huge and perfect with the same cold ice, the usual pale toned skin, and curiously coloured hair that was like dark chocolate indoors and bronze in sunlight. Sharp as her parents (and just as scheming), the girl was undoubtedly a Fowl. She was called by her middle name, Kora, something her father found ironic; she was named after two goddesses. The Hunter and the Iron Queen.

The Fowl's second child, Dmitriy Gavin Fowl, was named by the loyal manservant Butler. Artemis insisted upon it, and Sophia had no objections. Without Butler's last-minute chat with her on that rainy afternoon, while Artemis cancelled her flights, she might not have held the tiny human being in her arms that was her son. And she had grown fond of the old bodyguard.

The boy was just as brilliant as his sister and far more active than his father had ever been. Dmitriy was pale and dark like his sister, though his hair was a soild jet black and his eyes sparkling blue-green. He fenced, rode horseback, read great books, and painted like his mother. He was, in all senses, _her _son.

Since the nuptials Artemis had sworn off bodyguards, only to swear again that they would be renstated while he held his baby girl, promising nothing would ever happen to her. Sophie drew a line. The kids were not to be stalked all day by servants. She never had _that_ eerie protection, refusing it when Artemis tried to push it on her during their early days of marriage.

"If I took care of myself when I was a kid, so can they." She insisted. "Let them learn some boxing, or something."

Both kids took defense classes from "Auntie Julie". If in the mood, Sophie paid them to ambush their father. Eventually, tired from getting "whooped", (as they termed it), by his own kids, Artemis broke down and ran occasionally on the tredmil.

They went to a private school, though co-ed, thank the gods. It was only a few kilometers from the city, and more "equal opportunity" than St. Bartleby's, something Sophia encouraged. The kids were not to be kept from the truth in life, they were going to see more of real "common" people than their father knew as a child. And it was good for them. The realistic senses let them be truly gracious and spurred them to "make a change".

Fowl Manor wasn't some cold castle anymore, either. The new mistress shuttered at the thought of raising kids in such as terribly large place, so she sectioned off one wing as the main house, then tried to tempt Artemis in buying a cottage down the lane.

"Two stories, only fifteen rooms, a pool, stables, and forty acres!" She begged. "It's only five kilometers away, fenced it, and a real deal! You can't live in your parent's house forever!"

Artemis remained stubborn. "I was raised here and I turned out fine. It is family tradition."

"You are far from fine." Sophie snapped. "We can move back when I'm sure the kids don't turn out as arrogant asses."

But her husband merely refused, kissed her lightly on the head, and returned back to his blackmarket online trades. Some habites were dying hard.

Artemis's cooperation was blooming as ever, millions rolling in, with nearly half rolling out for charities each year. There were many business trips, most of which turned into family vacations. Artemis III was currently standing as Fowl heir, little Dymitriy was being groomed to take on Fowl Industries. Artemis had separated the two fortunes so each of his heirs could have their own empires. He was lost on what the third Fowl child would have. Perhaps their mother's money, since Sophie had her own stash of family gold. The Ivers, as it were, had been very promient and had bundles of "family money". And since Sophia was technically the last one…

But he didn't vocalize these thoughts, knowing the reactions his wife would place into action. Probably actions involving bruises.

As for Sophia, she filled her days in the studio, fulfilling her dream career. Reluctant to start any business, she made Artemis swear he wouldn't interfer and use his conncetions in the art world to promote his wife's work or influcence buyers and galleries. He kept to that promise, most of the time. Sophie occasionally had to extend her Tai Chi abilities when it got to be too much.

The third child, unborn, was going to be the last and an Iver. Sophia had requested early on that any "extras", as she had put it, quirking her lips lightly, would be given her family names and honors. So little Nadia or Tobias Sasha held that difference from his or her future siblings. Artemis had been gruding to allow the name change.

"I'm the last Iver, Arty, they're going to have _my _name! And if you don't like it, _Vaffanculo!_"

With that, she stormed out of his study, leaving in her wake her husband laughing and youngest wondering what bad word Mummy had said to Daddy. He knew, at least, that the word was Italian, and Daddy laughed quite a lot when Mummy said it. Perhaps it's a joke. He'd try it out on Kora later—his big sister was the smart one when it came to langauges.

And that evening found little Dmitriy with a bright green bar of soap in his mouth, an angry mother, amused father, and a sister that simply sat and glared. Nobody really could blame him—Sophie said it so much…

Then and there she decided it might be time to instill some language barries, particularly those concerning nasty words in Latin or Sanskrit.

**XXXXXXXXX**

The topaz was returned to the demon clan quickly after negotiations from the release of Sophie's wipe. The "stupid rock"'s departure caused a stir in the household, as Sophia bitterly wept for days. Oh, she didn't care centaur's tail for the stone, but rather for all the trouble it caused. Artemis mournfully asked if perhaps she regretted accepting that meeting Sasha proposed many month ago, mere hours after the intial exicution of the robbery. The meeting that had led her to this life.

Horrified, Sophia yelped, socking him lightly on the hip. "What do you mean?! Regret? Arty, really."

Although he was reluctant to, Artemis introduced his wife to the People, but not before settling the mind wipe dispute that had been raging the the LEP for months after the incident. Apparently Birch was unpleased with the results of his team and wanted blood. Lela had thus far managed to keep the problem off of the council's back as Birch rallied a fuss among fairies of noble birth.

The two little Fowls were also included in the circle. When Artemis made the introduction without permission, the council saved themselves (and Artemis) the trouble and granted the Fowl family to be human friends to the fairy for eternity. Foaly claimed Kora and Holly happily took Dmitriy on as gurdians. Sophie was often heard proudly remarking on how her children had two gurdians each, one fairy, one human set, and they would be the most brilliant Fowls in the entire line. Relations were never better.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Dmitriy! Don't torment your sister!" Sophie scolded from across the table. Her son imediently stopped making the silly expression he's been flashing at Kora, opting to glare at her instead. Sophia glanced at her husband, who sat further down the table, discussing business with Domovio Butler. When he happened to look to that end of the talbe, he caught his wife's eye, grinned, then returned to the conversation. She, in turn, went back to the kids.

"Play nice." She said evenly. "Kora, just ignore him. You-" her blue-green orbs flicked to her son's thin face. They narrowed suspciously. The younged Fowl-Gavin child was too much like his father in the sense of his scheming. Not that Kora was any better; the girl had a series to pranks to rival her brother's easily, spanning from the tender age of three. What other children would build a peanut butter bomb solely out of the creamy spread, a water bottle, paper clips, and a meter of string?

Even if they were young geniuii, the children were quite immature at times, something Artemis couldn't fathom. It could be influenced from Sophie's encouragement. Or possibly their gene combination. Whatever it was, Artemis found it both annoying and endearing. And made him a little guilty. His own parents had never had the chance to raise a son, not really. They had never tucked him in, or helped him wash his hands, covered in paint. Read him stories, explained simple things, such as why the sky was blue or the grass green.

After dinner, Sophie sent the kids off to play until 9 o'clock, their firmly enforced bed time. In the mean time, the rest of the household met in Artemis's study. The rest of the household being Butler and the newly hired bodyguard, Edvard. Edvard was Butler's 3rd cousin by blood, though he did not hold the name. At 21 he was a little fresh, but eager to learn. So far all he'd been allowed was the survallince lab and walking the perimeter every mornings. Butler was far too worn to stare at screens all day, or walk the kilometers the Fowl estates lay upon.

Sophia smiled at the young man, easily causing him to blush. Artemis frowned at this. A light touch on the shoulder and he raised his hand to meet her's, crossing his arm across his chest.

"Report, Edvard." He started coolly.

"There was a media van at the front gate around one, but I managed to convince them there were better stories out today." Edvard glanced at his elder cousin. Butler winked.

"Mistress Kora swears she saw more down the road, and the metallic glint of cameras from the forest, but there was nothing there. "

Artemis nodded. Kora would've seen it fun to tease to new boy. He needed to speak to her about that. The Fowl securety may have been lax in recent years, but that did not give her cause to distract bodyguards from protecting her, from doing their jobs.

"And Dmyit—I mean, young Master Fowl was followed home by a reporter. She attempted to force an interview."

"I assume you intervined?"

"Yessir."

Sophia's strained expression made the boy speak again.

"She didn't say anything concerning, Mistress Fowl." Edvard said quickly. "Nothing dishonoring you or Master Fowl. I got to her before she'd said much besides asking his age. I'm sure-"

Butler lay a hand on the young man's forearm. Artemis's eyes darkened, but he made no comment. Sophie smiled weakly. "Thank you, Edvard."

"I will take her name, please. And the station she was working for." Artemis said quietly, ending the conversation.

Ever since the Fowl Children had been allowed to field trip and play out of doors with other kids at school, problems such as these had been frequent. Both Fowls were drilled on polite ways of saying "no". Still…it bothered both Sophie and Artemis. Artemis pushed for the privilges to be revoked, but Sophia, as concerned as she was, inisted on letting them keep the small freedoms. "You promised a normal childhood, Arty! Staying indoors everyday while all your friends are having free time is not normal."

The manservants left, silent.

Sophie moved from behind the armchair to occupy one of her own. Her bulging stomach pressed against the silk blouse she was wearing, straining the fabic. Unconciously, she slid a hand to stroke it lightly. _Only a few more_ _months..._ Massasging her forehead, she kicked off the black pumps she'd worn all through dinner. Artemis watched, fasinated, amused. Not even looking up, Sophia shot him down.

"Get that smirk of your face, Arty. You try to survive a day in 8 centimeter heels, and we'll see who'll be smirking."

"In the end, it will still be me." He flung back. "Obviously I'll take the design of the footwear, calculate the physics behind each step, moniter my own motion, and create the perfect way of walking that would reduce the stress and force on the foot."

Sophie grinned smugly. "Too late. I already tried it. It is impossible."

Lazily, Artemis examined his nails. "Nothing is impossible."

He heard the words "arse" and "prick" and "complete ego-manitaic" somewhere in her muttering before changing the subject. These were words quite frequently used when his wife described him. Of course, most of it was mere teasing, but for some parts. The sparkle in the blue-green orbs was so fierce that Artemis doubted the biars were entirely false in her view.

Artemis stood carefully to move to one of the arched windows. The night was black, but he could see the faint lights running around top the 4 meter-tall stonewall running the perimeter of the Fowl grounds. They winked, orange pricks. He felt arms loop around his waist. Sophie propped her chin on his shoulder, eyes closed, humming dreamily. Artemis lifted his hand to meet one of hers, and sighed.

The security problem was one of many on his list. The Fowl Industries, Fowl Star, and stocks had all been challenged extremely in the last three years by up and coming investors, tech companies and so forth. Such challenges were delightful in most cases, but the supreme amount of them was wearing on Artemis's nerves.

Also, Sophie was having nightmares. Two, three times a week she awoke screaming. She would never tell Artemis what the terror was, leading him to suspect either something tremendously embarrassing, or very hurtful. All he could gather from her mumbled words and the shuddering breaths was that it had to do with a long, dark corridor, something in the shadows, and death. Whoses' death was unknown. Artemis let her keep some secrets, though, in the end...perhaps he didn't want to know.

But that was not the worst of it.

His mother was, nearly 60 now, was showing very early stages of Alzheimer's. Timmy, in deep anguish, had of late been showing particular attention to his rare collection of wines. It was completely unfair that the time they'd lost together, the time that was being restored, was so limited.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Mother." Artemis said automatically. _And you. _But Sophia probably already knew that.

"We'll find an answer." Sophie murmured into his shoulder. The moment she learned of the possible diagnosis, Sophia burst into the medical department of Fowl Industries, grabbing the first chemist she saw by the collar, demanding if her husband had started any testing yet. The man stuttered he thought not. She whipped out a cell phone, proceeding to let Artemis listen in on her ordering the assembled chemists that they "are dropping your damn test tubes to work on a real problem. Nobody cares about a common cold or clones you numbskulls." Needless to say, they complied. This led to a discussion between the couple that went something along the lines of "When-I-said-what's-mine-is-your's-I-wasn't-including-the-family-business".

"MUM!" There was a bang. Sophie gave a moan, burying her head in Artemis's shoulder further.

"MUMMY! 'Mitry called me a you-know-what, and he stepped all over my flowers! MUM! This is unjust treatment! I say he gets to be psycho-analyzed by Daddy in the morning-"

"Why did we agree to this?" She whimpered. "Gods. This is all your fault, Arty."

"Me?" He was certain Sophie felt that smirk. "But you were the one who was intoxic--besides, it takes two-"

"MUM!"

"Beasts." But there was undeniable fondness in her insults, so Artemis didn't bother following her out.

When the two Fowls were wrestled into their PJs, the lights were turned out, and the crest-moon made deep shadows throughout the halls, Artemis met his wife in their room. Exhausted, he fell upon the mattress, fully-dressed in his Armani. Sophie crawled across to plop a swift kiss on his forehead, and then caressed it. Artemis worked twice as much as he had when they were dating, through it was by no choice.

Humming so opera piece she'd committed to memory decades ago, Sophia Iver-Fowl, settled in. The night was quiet, Butler watched over the grounds, her in-laws were in vacation in New York, and the kids were at their happy bickering. Nothing could be better. No staying up at nights, scooping out places, no constant fear for her life, normality stuck with her well. It was ironic, she often found when comparing her two lives, how things worked out. All she had wanted was a simple life. It took a hell of a lot more than expected, but in the end….

"What are you thinking of?"

"This."

Silence invited her to continue.

"My…our life. The kids, the house…." _You._ "…this." Her hand traveled down to the bump stretching across her stomach, making it a perfect crest.

He didn't make a sound for a long time. In fact, Sophia was nearly asleep before he made another noise.

"So was I." A pause. "I was right, Sophie."

"About what?" came her drowsy murmur.

"Everything."

"Hmm?"

"This."

"Right."

Smirking, Artemis leaned forward to kiss Sophia goodnight, taking deep satisfaction in the sheer rightness of the feeling, and then began to doze himself.

**The End**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Quiet endings, lullabies, what better way to complete "this"?

Farewell darling readers. I am SO sorry this took SO long. School ate my life.

I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed, **Brightfrost**, **Belle07**, Black Firelight, Natalie-07, frogsdung, Lisa, **Artemis J. Halk**, Yeboo, silver eyed vampire, bookworm2011, Hatchi, Islay12, chaos0marine, dame crystal, **Feather Death**, **Wicker-Smour**, **siubhan**, Magicaru, vihnanime, squirrellady, monicue, me, totally awed, **mizz-shy-gurl**, KuRoMeNoHime, Fire-n-Ice666, Guest, De code Master, abby-tabitha, ninja-pirate-alchemist, iness, Queen of Nerds, Punkartgurl13, **FanXForever**, Betty Harp, **Lazer6eam**, ghstkfrk1, Aardvark, AliAlmighty, Angela, amaya –black-wings, Nathaniel773, the epitome of randomness, luckyrules321, Kitty204, and most of all **Myrked Kohl. **

**This may be the end of What the Voices Say, but look out of What the Voices Cry and What the Voices Scream ! Yeah, school will still eat my life, but soon, I'll be able to write properly again! Watch me, I'm starting it RIGHT NOW! But again, sorry for the LONG wait. **

**~Dania**


	41. READ THIS!

**READ THIS!**

**Okay ducklings, I noticed a number of you, like 3, put alerts on the story AFTER it was completed. Where, I ask you, is the sense in that? It's over! But the 2****nd**** part has just begun! That's right, What the Voices Cry is out and on it's 4th chapter. I'm close to 10,000 words already. So check it out on my profile! **

**And since the rules state that I cannot post endorsement, I'm going to post a small section that was deleted from the up coming chapter. It's original, it's fresh, it had nowhere to go! **

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**_Chapter 4 Preview for "What the Voices Cry"_**

**_Disclaimer: Arty isn't mine, Sophia is._**

He stepped out from behind a column of ivy and kissed her. Exactly as she had attacked him about an hour before. Only her ambush was in front of people, out on the dance floor. His was beside her sister's grave, so it stung more. Between each contact he asked her a question.

"How does it feel to know-" Artemis's eyes could not be darker. "-that I don't love you anymore?"

Sophie thought she would feel at least _some_ relief. But there was nothing but despair. How could this be? She had been trying for years to make him stop. Perhaps she had misjudged her own feelings. Regardless of how annoying he was, how many times a day he brought her to the very pit of pure anger by pushing all the wrong buttons, putting aside how bloody much he scared her sometimes, Sophia liked Arty. He had been her best friend; she was genuinely fond of him. Love? At some points she even felt that. Eight years later she had thought she'd gotten over any unnecessary emotions like love. Boy, was she wrong. Because what he was saying…what he was saying _hurt._

"Awful." She replied, tears forming. _"Whoa, I actually didn't lie" _would've have been her first thought if she hadn't been so occupied. She could hardly believe she was crying. Honest-to-God tears were rolling down her cheeks.

Normally her second thought (if she would've had one coherent one after the first, which never really happened, but could've happened) would have been something along the lines of _"I hope Juliet used water-proof mascara"_. Of course, she wouldn't have really had that thought, because the only time she saw Juliet was when she was with Artemis and she would never be so vain around him. She just wouldn't care. Then again she was at a party, so she might have had that thought as she was surrounded by rich strangers and was not one to downplay her appearence just because of her social class. But all of this is quite beside the point, for in the end she never had either thought cross her mind.

So Artemis kissed her again and neither of them could forget the words, but neither of them would do anything about it. They had been said, they had been final, they had been potential lies.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**So go read it! It's better than that cheesy crap, I swear. **

**Oh, and review. Come on, it's nearly my birthday! Please?**

**~Dania**


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